c - % . . 




aass P/\k%07 



THE 



^ENEID OF VIRGIL 



TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH 



BY 

JOHN D. LONG. 



BOSTON 

LOCKWOOD, BROOKS & COMPANY. 

1879. 







& 



COPYRIGHT, 
l8 79 , 

BY LOCKWOOD, BROOKS & CO. 



$0tfcfodl »nfc Gfcurtfeill, |)rintars, 
Boston. 



TO 

MlL3EIFE_jL$iDTWa LITTLE GIRLS 

SO 0£TE^TE^COM^A5iIONS OF_MY WORK 

1^ DEDICATE IT 



OF THE TRANSLATION. 



This, the snatch and pastime of the last year, is not printed 
because there is want of it, or merit in it. It is only my 
endeavor — good or bad — toward making a loyal translation of 
the ^Eneid into living English blank verse : it is my mite of 
tribute to the old studies, paid after drifting far from the 
academic inspiration and shelter; and as it is a busy man's 
work and not a scholar's, perhaps, for that, something will be 
pardoned to its infelicities. 

It is accidental if coincidences with other translations occur, 
none of which had I seen before finishing my own. On exam- 
ining some of them, I am convinced that a rhyming version 
must always be paraphrase rather than translation, besides 
offending against classic dignity — like a modern bonnet on the 
head of Minerva. The most faithful translation is of course 
the best; and in mine I have tried — not hesitating now and 
then at an anachronistic rendering — to bring out in to-day's 
phrase, so far as I could, the force of all the Latin words. 

After all this pleasant work, I confess disappointment at 
finding such dearth of humor, that next best thing in the 
world ; such leanness in the poet's insight into nature, catch- 
ing only its most obtrusive aspects, and nothing of its finer 
exquisiteness ; so little homely humanity ; such holocausts of 
men to man ; so faint a glimmer of God. And yet, because of 
its rare, though irrenderable, sweetness of versification, and 
its masterful fidelity in portraying those workings of the human 



vi Of the Translation, 

heart with which it deals, and because Virgil struck so many 
of the chords that thrill from the first man to the last, the 
iEneid is an immortal poem, though the world could better lose 
it all than a psalm of David or a verse of Whittier. 

Mayhap some will read this. If so, they will renew, as I 
after twenty-five years have done, not only the kindly acquaint- 
ance of this Roman story-teller, but the happy morning of the 

school-boy's shining face and eager heart. 

J. D. L. 

Hingham, April 19, 1879. 



THE iENEID. 



THE ^NEID. 



FIRST BOOK. 

T SING of war. I sing the man who erst, 

-■- From off the shore of Troy fate-driven, came 

To the Lavinian coast in Italy, 

Hard pressed on land and sea, the gods malign, 

Fierce Juno's hate unslaked. Much too he bore 

In war, while he a city built, and set 

His gods in Latium. Thence the Latin race, 

Our Alban sires, the walls of haughty Rome ! 



Muse, tell me why, what insult borne, at what 
Enraged, a queen of gods drove mortal famed IO 
For reverence of the gods, so many blows 
To bear, so many toils to undergo ! 
Is there such bitterness of hate in heaven ? 

Long time ago the city Carthage stood, 
Inhabited by colonists from Tyre, x s 

Well off the Tiber's mouth and Italy, 
Rich in resources, and to battle swift. 



THE yENEID. 



They say that Juno loved it more alone 

Than all earth else, more e'en than Samos. Here 

Her arms, her chariot were : the goddess long 2 ° 

Had nursed and cherished it in hope, if fate 

Were kind, to give.it o'er all nations rule. 

For she had Heard of seed from Trojan blood, 

That yet would topple down the Tyrian towers ; 

That thence a race victorious in arms, *5 

Its empire wide, would come — so ran the Fates — 

To blot out Libya. Fearful of this, 

Remembering the war which she of old 

Was first to wage 'gainst Troy for her dear Greece, 

The causes of her hate and her keen wrongs so 

Still vexed her soul. Deep in her heart had sunk 

The award that Paris made, the slight that passed 

Her beauty by, her hatred of his race, 

And the honors of the kidnapped Ganymede. 4 

By these inflamed, from Latium far she drove, 35 

O'er the whole ocean tossed, what men of Troy 

The Greeks and dire Achilles spared. Fate-driven, 

They wandered many years all seas around. 

So much it cost to found the Roman State ! 

Their sails were gaily spread, their brazen beaks *° 
Ploughing the salt sea foam scarce out of sight 
Of Sicily, when, nursing e'er at heart 
Her hurt, thus pondered Juno with herself : 
" Foiled, shall I stay my purpose, powerless 
To keep from Italy this Trojan king? 45 

Ay ! fate forbids ! Yet could not Pallas wreck 
And sink at sea the Grecian fleet for naught 
But Ajax' frenzied guilt, Oileus' son ? 



THE iENEID. ii 



She, hurling from the clouds Jove's lightning bolt, 
In pieces dashed his boats, with winds upturned 50 
The waves, and in the whirl caught Ajax up, 
And on a jut of rock impaled his corse. 
But I walk queen of gods, sister and wife 
Of Jove, yet with one tribe so many years 
Wage war ! Who now is awed at Juno's might ! 55 
What beggar at her shrine will offering lay ! " 
Thus chafing in her own embittered heart, 
The goddess came into JEoYm, 
The home of storms, and womb of raging winds. 
Here rules king ^Eolus in cavern huge, 6o 

And thralls in chains and cell the angry blasts 
And bellowing tempests. Furious, they rush 
With mighty roar about their mountain keep. 
Sceptre in hand, at peak sits JEolus, 
And curbs their will and calms their ire.H For, else, 6 5 
The sea, the land, high heaven itself they quick 
Would lift away with them and sweep through space. 
But the Almighty Father, fearing this, 
Hath shut them in dark caves, and on them laid 
The mountains' towering' mass, and o'er them set ?° 
A king, discreet to hold them in strict hest 
Or give loose reins when bidden. Unto him 
A suppliant, thus speaks Juno : ".^Eolus, — 
For unto thee the Father of the gods 
And King of men hath given to calm the waves 75 
Or toss them with the wind — a rac£ I hate 
Sails on the Tuscan sea, transporting Troy 
And its cowed household gods to Italy. 
Give thy winds might, and wreck their sinking boats, 



12 THE .ENEID. 



Or sperse and whelm their corses in the deep. 8° 

Twice seven nymphs I have of fairest shape ; 

Deibpeia, loveliest in form, 

I'll give in wedlock true and vow her thine, 

With thee forever for thy great desert 

To live, and make thee sire of children fair." 8 5 

Back ^Eolus : " 'Tis thine, O queen, to ask 
Whatever thou wilt ; my part to do what bid. 
To thee my power, my sceptre, Jove's regard, 
I owe ; thou bid'st me banquet with the gods ; 
Thou mak'st me lord of tempest and of storm. ,r ~^ 90 

So spake, and turned his spear, and smote with it 
TheJiollow mountain side. In column massed, 
Forth charge the winds where'er a port, and sweep 
The earth with blasts. The wind from East, the wind 
From South, from South-west thick with rain, leap 
down 95 

Together on the sea, and from its dregs 
Upturn it all, and roll vast waves to shore. 
Then come the sailors' shouts, the squeak of ropes. 
Clouds quick snatch sky and day from Trojan eyes : 
Black night broods o'er the deep : thunders all 
heaven ; IO ° 

With the incessant lightning gleams the air. 
All nature threats the men with instant death. \ 

Palsied are then ^Eneas' limbs with cold. 
He groans and, both hands lifted toward the stars, 
Thus cries aloud* "Thrice, four times blessed ye, io s 
Who haply under Troy's high walls met death ! 
O Diomed, bravest of Grecian blood, 
Why could not I fall dead on Ilian soil, 



THE iENEID. 13 



And pour by thy right hand this heart's blood out, 
Where Hector brave, slain by Achilles' spear, iro 

And huge Sarpedon lie, and Simdis drags, 
Engorged beneath its waves, so many shields, 
Helmets and corses of heroic men! " 

^ -Shrill from the north the blast beat down the- 

sail 
Full in his face, as thus he cried, and tossed "S 

The spray to heaven. The oars are snapt. Round 

goes 
The bow, broadside to sea. In deluge pours 
The tumbling mountain wave : upon its crest 
Some hang ; to some the yawning waves disclose 
The earth between : the tide roils up the sand. I2 ° 

~'~ Three wrecks the South wind drives on sunken rocks, 
Which, as their huge backs swell from out the sea, 
The Italians call the Altars. Three on shoals 
And spits the East wind forces, — sorry sight — 
Sets them aground, and banks them in the sands. 12 s 
One, with the Lycians and Orontes true, 
A huge sea strikes, before ^Eneas' eyes, 

Straight down astern ; its leaning helmsman falls, 

And headlong rolls : one circling eddy spins 

It round and round and round, then gorges it I 3° 

In the swift vortex of the sea. Dispersed 

Mid that vast whirl of waters float the crew, 

And 'neath the waves the warriors' arms, the wares 

And wealth of Troy. And now the storm o'ercomes 

The stout boat of Ilioneus, of brave *35 

Achates, that which Abas bore, and that 

Which old Alethes. All, their joints apart, 



i 4 THE ^ENEID. 



Let in the ruthless flood and gape in cracks. 

Meanwhile doth Neptune scent a storm abroad. 
Loud uproar on the sea, the very deep ^° 

Upturned. Moved greatly, up he looks, and lifts 
His head benignant o'er the topmost wave. 
He sees ^Eneas' wrecks on all the main, 
The Trojans pressed by flood, and ruin rained 
From heaven. Nor Juno's wiles nor hate escape J -*5 
Her brother. He the East wind and the West 
Calls unto him, and thus anon he speaks : 
" Hath faith in any lineage of yours 
So seized you, that ye dare confuse, without 
My bidding, heaven and earth, and raise so wild ^o 

A storm, ye Winds ? Whom I ! But let me 

calm 
The raging waves. Ye shall not thus again 
Offend and pay like penalty. Make quick 
Your flight, and to your king say this : Not his 
The empire of the sea, the trident dread, — . *55 

They were alloted me. Some rocky wilds 
He holds, thy home, East wind. There in his courts 
Let ^Eolus make boast ; there rule supreme 
Within the pent-up prison of the winds." 

So saying, quicklier than said, he calms l6 ° 

The swollen sea, dispels the gathered clouds, 
And brings again the sun. Cymothoe 
At once, with Triton's help, doth lift the boats 
From off the reefs. He with his trident aids, 
Great sand-banks pries apart, then stills the deep, l6 5 
And in his light car o'er the water rolls. 
So riot oft in some great mob begins ; 



THE iENEID. 



J 5 



The low-bred herd grow frantic ; all at once 
Stones fly and firebrands ; frenzy finds them arms. 
Yet if some man they see, of weight for worth f 7° 
And truth, listening and still they stand, while he 
Rules with a ^vord their wills and calms their ire. 
So all this tumult of the deep subsides, 
When o'er the waters forth the Father looks, 
And, through the clear air gliding, guides his 

steeds r ?5 

And gives them rein, while swiftly flies his car. 
Worn out, the Trojans struggle now to reach 
The nearest shore, and turn to Libya's strand. 

The spot, an inlet deep. An island there 
With outstretched arms makes port, where every 

wave lSo 

From seaward breaks and faints in gentle ebb. 
High cliffs each side ; twin summits threaten heaven, 
While 'neath them rests the water safe and still. 
Above it lean a stretch of glinting leaves, 
And 'groves of sombre shade. In front, a cave 
Of hanging rock, cool springs within, and seats 
Of living granite — grotto of the nymphs.^C^ 
There needs no hawser for the weary craft, 
No anchor with its crooked fluke to hold. 
..•Eneas enters here with seven boats left 
Of all his fleet. The Trojans, wild to land, 
Leap out and seize the beach they coveted • 
Though drenched with brine, they stretch them on 

the sand. 
Quick from the flint Achates strikes a spark, 
Then feeds the fire with leaves, dry kindlings heaps I( ?5 



1 6 THE iENEID. 



Above, and through the fuel fans the flame. 
Though fagged with toil, they land their sea-soaked 
\ grain 

And milling ware, and haste to parch with fire 
\ What corn is saved, and grind it with a stone. 

Meantime ^Eneas mounts the cliff and scans 20 ° 
All out to sea the view, if haply he 
Find Antheus tossed, the two-banked Phrygian boats, 
Capys, or, high astern, Caicus' shield. 
No ship in sight, but on the shore he sees 
Three wandering stags. Whole droves are at their 

heels, 2 °5 

And through the glades the long line feeds. He 

stops, 
And catches up the bow and arrows swift 
Which good Achates holds. The leaders first, 
Lifting their tall heads and their branching horns, 
He strikes, and next the herd. Then, with his 

shafts, 2I ° 

All through the leafy grove he scatters them, 
\ Nor stays the conquest till he stretches seven 
^Huge carcasses aground — one for each boat. 
With these he seeks the harbor, and among 
His men divides them all. Divides he, too, 2I 5 

The wine which, when from the Sicilian shore 
They came away, Acestes, kindly host, 
Had put in casks and given them. Then he speaks, 
And calms their sorrowing hearts : " O friends, for oft 
Have we been made acquaint with ills — oh ye, 22 ° 
Who worse have borne, these too the gods will end. 
Ye met the rage of Scylla's rocks that roared 



THE iENEID. 17 



Far down. Ye dared the Cyclopean reefs. 

Pluck up your hearts ! Away weak fears ! Some day 

May yet be happier for remembering this./-^ 22 5 

With varied lot, through many risks we go ft 

To Latium, where a quiet home is sure : 

Ours there the Trojan kingdom to rebuild ! 

Be brave, and keep yourselves for better things." 

So speaks .; but, faint with carking care, he feigns 2 3° 
Cheer on his face, and keeps his sad heart dowru— ****■ 
They for the game and coming feast prepare, 
Rip from the ribs the hide, arid bare the flesh ; 
Some fix on spits the quivering strips they cut ; 
Some brazen kettles set, and tend the fires. 2 ^s 

Food plucks their courage up : stretched on the grass, 
They fill them with old wine and juicy steaks. 
Hunger with feasting stayed, the tables cleared, 
They linger, talking back their missing mates, 
In doubt, 'twixt hope and fear, whether to think 2 -*<? 
These live, or, past all pangs, answer no more 
Their comrades' call. Pious ^Eneas most 
Mourns by himself now bold Orontes' lot, 
Now that of Amycus, Lycus' sad fate, 
And both brave Gyas and Cloanthus brave. 21 5 

So the day closed. Then from ethereal heights 
Down-looking on the sail-swept sea, on earth 
Outspread, on shores and nations vast, stood Jove 
At heaven's high arch, and scanned the Libyan 

realms. 
To him heart-weary of such great concerns, , 2 ?° 

Sadder than wont, her bright eyes dimmed with tears, 
Venus appeals : " Oh thou, who reign'st fore'er 



iS THE ^ENEID. 



O'er all things human and divine, and aw'st 
With thunder, what could my ^Eneas do — 
What could the Trojans do to thee so ill, 2 55 

That, suffering death in every form, the world's 
Whole orb is shut to bar them Italy ? 
'Twas sure thy promise that from them one day, ^/ 
In years to come, should Roman sovereigns spring, 
Restored from Teucer's seed to native soil, 26 ° 

To hold o'er earth and sea unbroken sway. 
Father, what influence turns thee now ? With this, 
Offsetting fate to fate, I better bore, 
n sooth, the sack and awful fall of Troy ; 

~ And yet, though through so many hardships haled, 26 s 
Still the same fortune dogs these men. What end 
Unto their miseries dost thou give, great king ? 

^"•Antenor, 'scaping from the Grecian midst, 
Could safe essay th' Illyrian seas, the far 
Interior kingdom of Liburnia, 2 7° 

And pass beyond Timavus' fountain-head, 
Where by nine mouths it pours a rushing sea 
Mid the loud echoes of the hills, and whelms 
The fields with ocean's roar. Yet founded he 
The city Padua there, built Trojan homes, 2 75 

Gave to a nation name, hung up the arms 
Of Troy, and in sweet peace is now at rest. 
Thy seed, whom thou did'st pledge a throne in 

heaven, 
Our galleys wrecked, we glut one woman's hate, 
Ye gods ! and from the shores of Italy 28 ° 

Are torn afar. The meed of piety 
Is this ? Dost so restore us to our realm ? " 



THE ^NEID. 



Half laughing at her, with the look that calms 
The storms of heaven, Father of men and gods, 
He kissed his daughter's lips, and this he said : 2S 5 
" Queen of Cythera, spare thy fears. Unchanged 
Remains thy children's fate ; the promised walls 
And city of Lavinium thou shalt see, 
And bear magnanimous zEneas high 
To starry heaven. Me no influence turns. 2 9° 

Nay, lest care fret thee, I will thee disclose, 
The secret scroll of destiny unrolled, 
That he in Italy shall wage great wars, 
Subdue bold tribes, give laws and homes to men, 
While he three summers reigns in Latium, 2 95 

And winters three succeed the overthrow 
Of the Rutulians. But Ascanius, 
His boy, lulus then — Ilus it was, 
While reigned the Trojan state — shall empire hold 
Thirty full circles of on-rolling months, 3 °° 

Then move his kingdom from Lavinium, 
And Alba Longa gird with mighty walls. ** 
There full three hundred years shall Hector's race 
Be king, till the nun-princess Ilia 
Bear unto Mars two children at a birth. J^ 00 " 305 
Thence Romulus, proud of his tawny robe 
Of wolf that nursed him, shall the nation sway, 
A fortress build, and, from his own name, call 
It Rome, to which no mete of power or time 
I set, but give it empire without end< ' 310 

E'en vengeful Juno, racking now with fear 
Sea, earth and heaven, shall turn to better thoughts, 
And love, like me, the Romans, when they wear 



20 THE ^NEID. 



The toga and are masters of the world. 

Such is my will. Swift years will bring a day 315 

When sons of Troy shall Phthia and renowned 

Mycenae hold in servitude, and lord 

Over a vanquished Argos. Then shall spring 

Caesar of noble Trojan stock, whose rule 

The ocean bounds, whose fame the stars — the name 

Of Julius his from great lulus drawn. 

Him, laden with the spoils of Orient, 

Thou sure shalt have at last in heaven: he, too, 

With prayers shall be invoked. Then, wars shall 

cease ; 
A hard age melt ; white Faith and Purity, 325 

The sainted brother souls of Romulus 
And Remus mould the laws ; and War's grim gates - 
Shall shut with iron bars and solid joints, 
While godless Fury howls within, enthroned 
On brutal arms, hideous with bloody mouth, 330 

And with a hundred brazen chains bound back.' ? 

So Jove replies : and sends down Maia's son 
To make the Trojans welcome to the soil 
And new-built roofs of Carthage ; Dido else, 
Heedless of fate, had barred them from her bounds. 335 
He glides, with wings for oars, through airy space : 
Now stands on Libya's shore, and does what bid. 
The Carthaginians at his will abate 
Their churlishness ; but most their queen's kind 

heart 
And gentle thoughts befriend the Trojan guests. 340 

Pious ^Eneas, tossed all night with care, 
Soon as the blessed day-light breaks, goes forth 



THE .ENEID. 21 



To explore new paths, to find upon what coast 

The winds have blown him, whether men or beasts 

Dwell in its wilds, and to his crews report 345 

The truth. Beneath the cliffs o'erarched with woods, 

Shut round with forests and their sombre shade, 

He sees his fleet. Sole comrade of his way, 

Achates swings two bro^-h^-ad iron spears. 

Half through the wood his mother thwarts his path 350 

With maiden face and garb, with weapons like 

A Spartan girl's, nay, like the Thracian maid 

Harpalyce, who wearies out her steeds, 

And faster than swift Hebrus runs. So, too, 

Her light bow o'er her shoulder she had flung, 355 

And loosed her hair to revel with the winds, 

Her knee just bared, a huntress with her frock's 

Full folds ingathered with a knot. She first 

To speak : " Pray tell me, masters, have you chanced 

To see, here wandering, any mate of mine, 360 

With quiver girt, and spotted robe of lynx, 

The panting wild boar chasing with a shout." 

So Venus ; but the son of Venus thus : 
" Naught have I heard or seen of mate of thine, 
O maiden, whom, with neither mortal face 365 

Nor human voice, I know not how to call. 
Oh ! goddess sure, Apollo's sister thou 
Or kin of nymphs ! whoe'er thou art, be kind, 
Lighten our toil, and tell us 'neath what sky, 
Upon what border of the world, at last 370 

We are astray. We wander ignorant 
Of habitant or place, here driven by winds 
And billows vast. So, many a victim, struck 



THE ^NEID. 



By my right hand, shall at thine altars fall." 

Then Venus said: " I am not worth such rites. 37s 
Oft thus we Tynan girls the quiver bear, 
And high with purple buskin bind the leg. 
It is the Carthaginian realm thou seest, 
The city of Agenor's countrymen, 
Of Tyrian colonists in Libya, 3S0 

A stubborn, warlike race by Dido ruled, 
Who fleeing from her brother came from Tyre. 
Her wrong is great, the story long ; yet will 
I touch, its outer lines. \ Sichaeus was 
Her husband, richest man in Tyre, and loved 385 

With all the heart of his ill-fated wife. 
While yet a maid, her father gave her him 
With every blessing on' the match. Ah ! then 
Pygmalion, her brother, was the king 
Of Tyre, in crime no monster such as he. 390 

A quarrel rose. Blasphemer, blind with lust 
For gold, all reckless of his sister's heart, 
By stealth he stabbed Sichaeus, off his guard 
And at the altar-front. Long time he hid 
The deed. With lies and lies the villain tricked 39s 
Her yearning, hope-deluded, broken heart, 
Till her unburied husband's ghost, his' weird 
Pale visage lifting, came to her in sleep, 
Unwrapped the dagger-stab upon his breast, 
And bared the bloody altars and the whole 4 °° 

Hid horror of the house. He bids her haste 
To flee her native land. To help her on, 
He shows her treasures in the earth, a mass 
Unknown of silver and of gold. So spurred, 



THE .EXEID. 



2 3 



She makes to fly, and seeks allies, whome'er -*°5 

The cruel tyrant hates or meanly fears. 
What galleys hap- be fitted out, they seize 
And load with gold. The wealth Pygmalion craved 
Is borne to sea — r a woman at the fore. 
This spot they found, where now you see great 
walls, — 4'° 

Xew Carthage with its rising citadel ; 
Here land they bought, as much, called Byrsa thence, 
As with a bull's hide they could circle in. 
But who are ye ? from what shore do ye come ? 
And whither go ? "*With sighs, and from a full 4*5 
Heart's depths, to her inquiries he replies : 

" O goddess, were I to rehearse, or could'st 
Thou stay to hear, the story of "our toils 
From first till now, the evening star would seal 
The shut of day behind the sunset bars. ^ 2 ° 

From ancient Troy, if ever to your ears 
The name of Troy hath come, o ? er many seas 
Conveyed, the storm's caprice hath forced us make 
This Libyan coast. Pious JEneas I, 
Who carry in my fleet my country's gods, 
Which from the foe I saved. My fame surmounts 
The stars. I seek to go to Italy, — 
Land of my sires, who sprang from mighty Jove. 
My goddess mother pointing out the v 
With twenty boats I rode the Phrygian sea, 430 

Obedient to fate's decrees. Scarce seven. 
Shattered by wind and wave, remain. And I. 
From Europe and from Asia driven, unknown. 
In want, here through the wilds of Libya stray." 



24 THE yENEID. 



She could not bear to hear him sorrow more, 435 
And interrupted thus his grief midway : 
" Whoe'er thou art, I cannot think thou liv'st 
To breathe the invigorating air and reach 
Our Tyrian gates, yet the gods hate thee so. 
Straight hence go to the threshold of our queen, 440 
For if my blinded parents taught me not 
In vain the art of augury, I see 
Thy shipmates back, thy fleet restored, safe sped 
By change of wind. Lo ! there, a line of twelve 
Exultant swans, whom late, swooping from forth 445 
The cloudless sky, Jove's eagle scattered far 
And wide beneath the outstretching heavens ; now 
They seem to take the earth, then all at once 
To be down-looking at it. E'en as they, 
Their peril over, sport with flapping wings, 450 

And circle round about, and burst in song, 
So too thy craft and crews either in port 
At anchor lie; or make it, all sail set. 
Go on, and where the way leads, guide thy feet." 

She spake, but, as she turned, flashed from her 
neck 455 

A rosy glow : ambrosial tresses breathed 
A heavenly fragrance from her head : her robe 
Fell flowing down along her feet : and lo ! 
There was the goddess in her very step. 
He knew his mother then, and, as she fled, 460 

Pursued and cried : " Why, cruel too, dost thou 
Delude thy son with sembling shapes ? Why may 
Not we clasp hand with hand, and know we speak 
And hear each other's voice ? " Thus he complains, 



THE ^NEID. 



25 



And toward the city wends. But as^ they go, 465 

Venus with mist and many a cloudy fold 
Veils them, that none can either see, or touch, 
Or stay, or ask them why they come. Upborne, 
She glides to Paphos, glad again to rest 
In her own haunts. Her temple there; and there +7° 
Glow with Sabaean myrrh her hundred shrines 
That breathe with fragrance from fresh dewy flowers. 

Meantime they hasten, keeping to the path, 
And now they mount a hill, which high o'erhangs 
The town and looks down fronting on its towers. 475 
./Eneas wonders at so great a town — * 
Where yesterday were huts — its gates, its streets, 
Its busy stir. The Tyrians hard at work, 
Some lay out walls, the turret raise, or roll 
Hugh rocks hand over hand, while others choose 4S0 
And with a furrow mark out dwelling lots. 
They build for laws and courts and senate grave. 
Here some dig down to set the city gates : 
The deep foundations of the theatre 
Here others lay, and hew great granite shafts 
High raised to decorate the coming stage. 
'Tis like the busy industry of bees, 
That in the early summer-time all day 
Through flowery fields lead forth their adult young, 
Or store the exuding honey and distend 49° 

Their cells with the sweet sap, or take from those 
Who come their load of sweets, or with a rush 
Drive from the hives the drones — a sluggard swarm: 
The work glows on : sweet thyme the honey breathes. 
His eyes uplifted o'er the city's heights, 495 



THE vENEID. 



-^Eneas cries : " Oh happy ye, whose walls 
Already rise I " Enveloped in the cloud, 
He mingles with the throng, advancing through 
Its midst, yet strange to say is seen by none. 

Just in the centre of the city stood s°° 

A grove of thickest shade, in which, when first 
The Carthaginians came after their toss 
By wind and wave, at royal Juno's hint 
They dug and found the head of a wild horse, — 
A sign the race illustrious would be 505 

In war — a sovereign power for centuries thence. 
Sidonian Dido here a temple vast 
To Juno was erecting, rich in gifts, 
And in the favor of tke goddess blest. 
Above its steps a brazen threshold rose ; 510 

Door-posts of brass adjoined; and brazen doors 
Upon their hinges creaked. 'Twas here the first 
New gleam of fortune banished fear. Here first 
^Eneas dared for safety hope, and put 
A braver trust in his adversities. 5*s 

For while, the queen awaiting, he surveys 
All parts of the great temple, and admires 
The artists' varying handiwork, their slow 
Laborious pains, and wonders what will be 
The city's fate, he sees, in order ranged, 520 

The Ilian fights, the story of a war 
Now known throughout the world : there Atreus' sons 
He sees, and Priam, and, implacable 
To both, Achilles. Rooted, and in tears, 
y£neas cries: "What spot, Achates, now, 525 

What region of the world, but echoes back 



THE jENEID. 27 



The story of our woes ? Lo, Priam there ! 
E'en here hath worth reward, and grief its tears, 
And human sorrows touch the heart. Away 
With fear • such fame will some deliverance 
bring." 530 

Upon the painted counterfeit he feeds 
With many a groan, tears pouring down his face. 

For this he sees. Battling around the walls 
Of Troy, here fly the Greeks, the Trojan ranks 
Pin sue: here fly the Trojans from the crest 535 

And chariot of Achilles charging home. 
Close by, he weeps to see again the tents 
Of Rhesus with their curtains white as snow, 
Whose camp no sooner sleeps than sleep betrays 
And bloody Diomed with slaughter fills, 540 

Its thirty steeds impounding ere they taste 
Of Trojan grass or drink from Xanthus' stream. 
Elsewhere, the flight of Troilus, wretched boy, — 
No match to fight Achilles ; armor off, 
His horses drag him, hanging on his back ; 545 

Behind an empty car, yet holding fast 
The reins : his hair and shoulders scrape the earth ; 
The inverted spear writes blood upon the dust. 
And next, their hair aflight, beating their breasts, 
The Trojan mothers to the temple go 550 

Of angry Pallas, and, sad suppliants, 
Bring there their gift, a rich embroidered robe : 
Away the goddess turns and keeps her eyes 
Riveted on the ground. Around the walls 
Of Troy three times Achilles Hector drags, 555 

His lifeless body bartering there for gold. 



2 8 THE ^NEID. 



Then did indeed ./Eneas groan aloud, 

E'en from the bottom of his heart, to see 

The captured arms, the car, the very corse 

Of his dear friend, and Priam stretching out $ 6 ° 

His feeble hands. There saw he, too, himself 

Thick in the fight amid the Grecian chiefs, 

Swart Memnon's banner, and the Eastern troops. 

Fiery Penthesilea leads her ranks 

Of Amazons, armed with their crescent shields ; 565 

She mid the host burns eager for the fray ; 

A golden zone bound 'neath her swelling breast, 

Warrior and maid, she dares to cope with men. 

While thus ^Eneas at these wonders stares, 
Entranced and held in one unbroken gaze, 570 

Dido into the temple comes in state, 
The loveliest shape on earth, a numerous train 
Of courtiers round her. So Diana leads 
Upon Eurotas' banks or Cynthus' heights 
The choral dance, a thousand mountain-nymphs 575 
In bosky clusters following here and there ; 
A quiver from her shoulder flung, she glides 
Along, and towers above them all, while joy 
The peaceful bosom of Latona thrills. 
And such was Dido : happy thus she bore 580 

Herself amid the throng, upon her work 
And future realm intent. Before the gates 
Of her own goddess, 'neath the temple's arch, 
High on her throne and girt with armed men, 
She sits. Unto her subjects she begins 5S5 

Administering justice and the law, 
Due shares of work assigns or draws by lot, 



THE iENEID. 



29 



When all at once ^Eneas sees approach, — 
A great crowd following after, — Antheus, 
Sergestus, brave Cloanthus, and with them 590 

Yet other Trojans, whom the storm had spersed 
Upon the deep or forced to other shores. 
He and Achates both, alike 'twixt joy 
And fear distraught, are hot to clasp right hands. 
Eager, yet puzzled by this strange event,* 595 

They keep concealed, and through their cloudy veil 
Look out to learn what fate these men have had, 
Where on the shore they leave their boats, and why 
They thither come. For spokesmen now advance, 
Selected from the crews, who audience ask, 6o ° 

And seek the temple with their loud appeal. 

Admitted with full leave to speak the queen, 
Ilioneus, the oldest, calmly thus 
Begins : " O queen, whom Jupiter permits 
To stablish this new city and control ^s 

A haughty people with just rule, o'er all 
Seas tempest-tossed we wretched men of Troy 
Implore thee, do not loose upon our fleet 
The outraging flames. Spare thou a pious race, 
And heed more nearly our necessities. 6l ° 

Not to destroy with sword these Tyrian homes, 
Or pile the shore with pillage, have we come. 
Our hearts lodge not such insolence, nor is't 
The humbled make so bold. There is a tract, 
The Grecians calls its name Hesperia, 6l 5 

An old land, stout at war, and rich its soil; 
The Enotrians tilled it once. But now 'tis said 
That their descendants name it Italy — 



?Q 



THE ^ENEID. 



Some chieftain's name. Thither our course, when lo ! 

Stormy Orion strode above the deep, 62 ° 

The South wind beat, the sea broke over us 

And forced us on hid shoals, and drove us far 

O'er waves and lurking rocks. Few left, we drift 

Upon these shores. What race of men are these ? 

What churlish land, that hath such usages ? 62 5 

We are denied the shelter of the beach : 

They fight us and forbid us e'en to step 

Upon the margin of the shore. But know, 

The gods lay up the good deed and the bad. 

^Eneas was our king ; no man of truer worth, 6 3° 

None braver lives in war and arms. If him 

The fates preserve, if still he breathes the air, 

Nor yet within the fatal shadow lies, 

No fear for us, nor e'er wilt thou regret 

Thou strov'st to do the first kind offices. 635 

War-stores we have in Sicily, there too 

Kin cities, and renowned Acestes born 

Of Trojan stock. Let us but beach our boats, 

Now shattered with the storm, and fit us spars 

Out of these woods, and cut new oars, that we 6 4° 

With gladdened hearts may push for Latium 

And Italy, if ours it be, with king 

And mates restored, e'er Italy to reach; 

But if, O best of Trojan leaders, thou, 

Our savior, art no more, and Libya's sea 6 ^ 

Engulfs thee, nor is any hope that yet 

lulus lives, then that we may at least 

Seek the Sicilian sea, the settlements 

Already made, from which we hither came, 



THE iENEID. 31 



And king Acestes." Thus Ilioneus, 6 s° 

And all the other Trojans make assent. 

Then briefly Dido speaks with modest look : 
" Let fear depart your hearts, and have no care. 
Necessity, the newness of the state 
Force me to do this, and with sentinels 6 55 

To guard my stretch of coast. Who does not know 
Of Troy, its people and their valorous deeds, 
Its heroes and the blaze of its great war ? 
We Carthaginains have not hearts so hard, 
The sun yokes not his steeds so far from this 66 ° 

Our Tyrian city. If it be ye seek 
The great Hesperia and the Italian fields, 
Or Eryx' land and king Acestes, I 
Will aid you with my means, and send you safe 
Away ; or, would you stay on equal terms 66 5 

Within my realm, this city which you see 
Is yours. Bring up your fleet. From Troy or Tyre 
Shall no distinction make with me. I would 
Thy king, ^Eneas' self, by the same storm 
Compelled, were here ! Nay, now along the coast 6 ?° 
Will I send trusty men, and bid them search 
The extremes of Libya, if, cast ashore, 
He be astray in any wood or town." 

At this ^Eneas and Achates start \ 
Impatiently they burn to burst the cloud. 6 7S 

Achates is the first to speak : " What thought 
Is in thy heart, O goddess-born ? Thou see'st 
All safe, the fleet, the men preserved. There lacks 
But one, and him we saw, before our eyes, 
Go down amid the waves. The rest respond 



32 



THE ^NEID. 



According to thy mother s augury.' 

Scarce spake he ere, at once, the enfolding cloud 

Dispersed and faded into open air. 

Forth stood ^neas luminous in light : 

In face and shoulders like a god he was : 68 * 

For o'er her son his mother breathed the charm 

Of youthful locks, the ruddy glow of youth, 

A generous gladness in his eyes : such grace 

As carver's hand to ivory gives, or when 

Silver or Parian stone in yellow gold 6 9° 

Is set. A sudden apparition there 

Before them all, thus speaks he to the queen : 

" I, whom thou seek'st, Trojan iEneas, snatched 

From out the Libyan waves, before thee stand. 

Oh thou that hast alone compassion felt 6 95 

For Troy's unutterable woes, and would'st 

Thy home and city share with us, whom, reft 

Of all, the Greeks did spare but to be racked 

With every peril of the land and sea ! — 

Nor ever we, nor can the Trojan race, 700 

Where'er upon the globe its remnants are, 

Render thee, Dido, gratitude enough. 

But may the gods bless thee as thou deserv'st, 

If any powers there be that honor worth, 

If any sense of justice any where, 705 

Or any mind self-conscious of the right ! 

Happy the age that bore, the pair that gave 

Thee birth ! While rivers in their channels run, 

While shadows float o'er mountain side, and stars 

Feed on the pastures of the sky, thy name, 7"> 

Thy praise, thy honor shall forever live 



THE ^NEID. 33 



Whatever land may call me hence." He spake ; 
Then with his right hand grasped Ilioneus, 
Sergestus with his left, and after them 
Brave Gyas, brave Cloanthus, and the rest. ^ 7*5 

Dazed first to see the hero, next to hear 
So sad a tale, Sidonian Dido spake : 
" Son of a goddess thou, what fate is this 
Pursues thee through so many risks ! What wrath 
Hath forced thee on this savage coast ! Art thou 720 
Not that ^Eneas, whom sweet Venus bore 
Trojan Anchises at the Simo'is' stream 
In Troy ? I mind me now that Teucer once 
To Sidon came, expelled his native land, 
To find, with Belus' aid, new realms to rule. 725 

For Belus then, my sire, was laying waste 
The fertile land of Cyprus, which he held 
In his victorious grasp. Since then, to me 
The fall of Troy, thy name, the Grecian kings, 
Are household words. Teucer, though a foe 730 

Was wont to give the Trojans glowing praise, 
Wishing to trace his own birth to the same 
Old stock as theirs. Come then, brave men, and rest 
Under our roofs. Through many perils tossed, 
Me too hath a like fortune forced at length 735 

To settle here. Acquaint with grief, I learn 
To lend a helping hand." As thus she speaks, 
She leads .ZEneas 'neath the royal dome, 
And orders sacrifices at the shrines. 
For his companions on the shore as well, 740 

She hurries down a drove of twenty beeves, 
A hundred bristling backs of heavy swine, 
3 



34 



THE ^SNEID. 



A hundred fat lambs with their dams — the gifts, 

And joy in giving, of a soul divine. 

Within her palace, furnished with the warmth 745 

Of royal luxury, and 'neath its arch 

They spread a banquet. There might you behold 

Robes o£ rich purple, wrought with nicest art : 

Tables with massive silver ware : and, bossed 

On gold, brave deeds of sires, the whole long list 750 

Of great events, from when the race began, 

Through hero after hero running down. 

A father's love e'er tugging at his heart, 
^Eneas sends Achates swiftly back 
To tell Ascanius what has happed, and bring 755 

Him to the town. All the fond father's care 
Is for Ascanius. Presents he bids 
Him fetch, saved from the sack of Troy, a cloak 
With gold and figures stiff ; a veil with flowers 
Of bright acanthus on its border wrought,— * 760 

The ornaments that Grecian Helen, when 
She sought unholy wedlock, brought from home, 
Her mother Laeda's wondrous gift to her \ 
Also a staff that once Ilione, 

Oldest of Priam's daughters, used to bear ; 765 

A beaded necklace, and a crown twice girt 
With precious stones and gold. To hasten these, 
Achates now was wending to the boats. 

But Venus has new schemes, new wiles at heart, — 
That Cupid, changing face and look with sweet 770 
Ascanius, shall come instead, to fire 
The queen already glowing at the gifts, 
And kindle burning in her very bones. 



THE ^ENEID. 



35 



For she distrusts the intriguing house of Tyre, 

The two-tongued Tyrians. At Juno's wrath 775 

She frets; night after night her fears return: 

And so she says to Cupid — Love with wings — 

" My son, my life, my might, who dar'st alone 

Contemn the giant bolts of Jupiter, 

To thee I fly, and ask, a suppliant, ?so 

Thine aid. Thou know'st ^Eneas, brother thine, 

Is tossed at sea from every shore, because 

Of Juno's unjust hate : and in my grief 

Thou too hast often grieved. Now Dido, she 

Of Tyre, is toling him with tender words ; 785 

I fear me how the hospitalities 

That Juno sanctions, yet may turn, for she 

Will never stay her hand in such a pinch. 

And so, anticipating her, I would 

Ensnare the queen and fetter her in flame, 790 

So she, with me, shall to ^Eneas cling 

With love so great no power can loosen it. 

Now how to do it, hear my plan. This boy, 

My darling care, who yet shall be a king, 

At his fond father's call prepares to go 795 

Up to the Tyrian city bearing gifts, 

Relics from shipwreck and the flames of Troy, 

But I will hide him, stupefied with sleep, 

Within some hallowed nook on Ida's top 

Or on Cythera's, lest the trick he learn S ' 8 ^ 

And interrupt it when but half complete. ^ 

Just one night counterfeit his look, and, boy 

Thyself, put on this boy's familiar face : 

So, when, all happiness, shall Dido take 



36 THE iENEID. 



Thee to her breast, the sumptuous banquet spread, s °s 
The wine of Bacchus poured, and fold thee close 
And press sweet kisses, thou shalt then inbreathe 
Insidious fires, — the poison of deceit." 

Heeds Cupid his dear mother's bidding, dofls 
His wings and, chuckling, walks lulus' gait. 8ic 

But Venus through lulus' limbs instills 
A quiet sleep and, gathered to her breast, 
Takes him to Ida's lofty groves, where sweet 
The marjoram breathes over him ; in flowers 
She folds him up and in delicious shade ; 8i s 

While Cupid, mindful of his mother's wish, 
Brimful of fun, Achates' hand in his, 
The royal presents to the Tyrians brings, 
And comes to find the queen already sits 
Centred on couch of precious stuffs and gold. 82 ° 

Father ^Eneas and the Trojan men 
Gather and lie upon the purple robes ; 
Servants bring water for the hands, serve bread 
From baskets, and give napkins shorn and soft. 
Within, a hundred women-servants cook s -5 

The food, and keep the household shrines ablaze. 
A hundred more, and just as many men 
Of equal age, upon the tables serve 
The food, and lay the glasses. Also come 
The Tyrians crowding up the merry hall, 8 3° 

To lie upon the figured couches bid. 
They gaze enraptured at ^Eneas' gifts, 
And at lulus, at the god's flushed face 
And his dissembled prattle, at the cloak 
And veil with the acanthus' yellow flower 8 35 



THE ^NEID. 



37 



Inwrought. But most of all, poor Dido, doomed 

To suffer soon, her heart ne'er full enough, 

Burns but the more the more she gazes there, 

Won by the gifts and by the child alike. 

The boy, first clinging in JEneas' arms 84 ° 

And round his neck, and breathing back the deep 

Affection of the cheated father's heart, 

Attacks the queen ; with all her soul and eyes, 

O'er him she hangs, upon her breast the while 

Caressing him — unconscious, Dido, how 8 -*5 

Ali-powerful the god that nestles there. 

He, mindful of his mother, hastes to dim 

The memory of Sichaeus more and more, 

And with a living love to wake again 

Long slumbering passions in her fallow heart. 8 s° 

Soon as the banquet stays, the tables cleared, 
They bring great bowls ; they crown the wine ; the roof 
Echoes their mirth ; loud through the ample halls 
Their voices ring ; the golden ceilings blaze 
With hanging lamps, and darkness flies before 8 ss 
The torches' glare. The queen calls for a cup, 
Heavy with gems and gold, by Belus once, 
And since by all from Belus used. With wine 
She fills it high. Then silent is the hall. 
"O Jove," she cries, "since thou art said to fix 86 ° 
The laws of hospitality, make thou 
Happy this day alike to them from Tyre 
And them from Troy! Come Bacchus, Fount of mirth ! 
Good Juno too ! And ye, my Tyrians, 
Cheer on and celebrate the feast." She spake, 86 5 
Poured on the board an offering from the wine, 



38 THE iENEID. 



And to the rest just touched her dainty lips; 
Then gave it Bitias, hurrying him till he, 
Too quickly drinking from the unsteady cup, 
Did drench him from the o'erflowing brim of gold. 8 7° 
Then other elders drank. His golden lyre 
Long-haired Iopas, by great Atlas taught, 
Awakes to life : he sings the wandering moon ; 
The journeys of the sun ; whence human kind 
And beasts ; from whence the lightning and the 
storm ; 8 7S 

Arcturus, and the rainy Hyades, 
And the Two Bears ; and why the winter's sun 
So eager hurries to the ocean's surge, 
And why its weary nights drag on so slow. 
Tyrians and Trojans rival in applause. 88 ° 

In varied talk poor Dido ekes the night; 
She drinks deep draughts of love, inquiring much 
Of Priam, and of Hector much ; now asks 
What was the armor of Aurora's son, 
Now what the steeds of Diomed, and next 8S 5 

How great a chief Achilles. " Nay, begin, 
O guest," she says, " and tell me, from the first, 
The story of the wily Greeks, the woes 
Thy countrymen endured, thy journeyings; 
For now the seventh summer brings thee here, 8 9° 
A wanderer over every land and sea." 



SECOND BOOK. 

r I A HEN all were still, their faces fixed on his, 
-*• While from his couch ^Eneas thus began : — 
Thou bid'st me, queen, renew a grief no words 
Can speak, — to tell thee how the Greeks crushed out 
The Trojan state, — the kingdom that will live 5 

Forever in the pity of the world — 
And paint the misery I saw, — great part 
Of which I also was. What Myrmidon, 
What Dolop, or what soldier of the stern 
Ulysses e'en, when telling such a tale, IO 

Could keep from tears ? Already dewy night 
Hastes down the sky, and waning stars persuade 
To sleep. Yet if there be such eagerness 
To know our lot, the final agony 
Of Troy in brief to hear, e'en though my heart J 5 

Aches at the memory, and with grief relucts, 
I will go on. 

War-worn, by fate repelled, 
So many years already gliding by, 
The Grecian chiefs, with Pallas' help divine, 
A horse big as a mountain build, and line 2 ° 

Its ribs with laths of fir. They feign that it 
A votive offering is for safe return ; 
And so the story goes abroad. Within 
Its gloomy sides they stealthily conceal 
Selected men, and with armed soldiery 2 s 



4o 



THE ^NEID. 



Its great deep hollows and its belly fill. 

In sight lies Tenedos, a famous isle 
And rich, so long as Priam's kingdom stood, 
Now but a port unsafe to anchor in. 
Here borne, they hide on its deserted shore. 30 

We thought them gone and under sail for Greece : 
And so all Troy relaxes from its long 
Constraint. Wide swing the gates, and out we go 
To view the Grecian camp, the abandoned fields, 
The lonely shore. Here camped the Dolop men, 35 
We say, here stern Achilles ; here the boats 
Lay up, and here the troops in battle fought. 
Some stare astonished at the fatal gift 
To the immaculate Minerva feigned, 
And wonder at the horse's size. And first 40 

Thymcetes, whether by deceit, or so 
At last the fates of Troy compelled, suggests 
Within the walls to bring and place it near 
The citadel. But Capys and the men 
Of better wit entreat into the sea 45 

To throw or, setting fires beneath, to burn 
The gift, which they suspect an ambuscade 
Of Greeks, or else its hollow womb explore 
And try its hiding-places,, 'Twixt the two 
The crowd divide, uncertain which is right. 5° 

Foremost of all, a great throng following, 
Comes running from the temple, all aglow, 
Laocoon, who shouts while yet far off : 
" Ye fools, what madness are ye at ? Do ye 
Believe the enemy withdrawn, or think 55 

That any gift of Greek is free from cheat ? 



THE ^ENEID. 4I 



Is this ycur notion of Ulysses' make ? 

Either within this wood are Grecians hid, 

Or some machine itjs, built to assault 

Our walls, command our roofs and override 6o 

Our city ; or some other snare is in't. 

Trojans, trust not the horse ! Whate'er it is, 

I fear a Greek e'en when he brings a gift." 

As thus he spake, he whirled with lusty force 

His heavy spear -against the horse's side, 6 5 

Against the joints that made the belly's curve. 

Quivering it stuck ; and from the echoing womb 

Sounded the hollow depths and gave a groan. 

Then had the gods' decrees been kind, nor we 

Of reason reft, his spear had made us bare 7° 

That den of Greeks : thou, Troy, would'st now be up ; 

And, Priam's lofty palace, thou would'st stand ! 

But lo ! some Dardan shepherds then appeared, 
Bringing with outcries loud before the king 
A man whose hands were tied behind his back, 75 
And who, intending it, had put himself, 
A stranger, in their way, to bring to pass 
Just what to pass had come, and to the Greeks 
Lay open Troy ; in purpose resolute, 
Prepared for either fate, — to win the game, 8c 

Or meet a certain death. The Trojan youth, 
Eager to see, rush crowding round him close, 
And vie in insults to the prisoner. 
Mark now the cunning of the Greeks, and learn 
Them all from the iniquity of one ! 8 s 

For while, all eyes on him, with trembling limbs 
He stood unarmed, and restlessly his glance 



42 THE .ENEID. 



Ran o'er the Trojan throng, " Alas," he cried, 
" What land, what ocean now can shelter me ? 
What is there left at last to such a wretch, 9° 

For whom there is no place among the Greeks, 
On whom the Trojans, deadlier yet, now claim 
Their vengeance in his blood ? " Our very hearts 
Are melted at his sobs, all our ill-will 
Allayed. We bid him tell us what his race, 95 

What 'tis he seeks, and show what claim he has, 
A captive, on our mercy ; till at length 
He lays aside all fear, and thus he speaks : 

" All will I tell thee truthfully, O king, 
Whate'er my fate may be. Not, first of all, IO ° 

Do I deny I am a Greek : nor, though 
Bad luck has driven Sinon to despair, 
Shall it a cheat and liar make him too. 
Hearsay perchance has fetched your ears the name 
Of Palamedes, one of Belus' race, io 5 

Of great and glorious fame, whom innocent, 
The accusation false, the evidence 
Corrupt, the Greeks condemned to death, for that 
He counselled peace. Now he is dead, they mourn. 
Near kin to him, my poor sire sent me here IIQ 

His comrade in the earliest of the war. 
Long as he stood secure within his realm, 
And in the councils of the state was strong, 
I also had some name and weight : but when, 
Through sly Ulysses' hate — I speak of what IT 5 

I know — from earth he passed, in gloom and grief 
I dragged a harassed life, my soul enraged 
At my unguilty kinsman's fall. And, fool, 



THE ^NEID. 43 



I blabbed : I swore, should any chance occur, 
Should I to native Argos e'er go back, I2 ° 

I would avenge his wrongs. My tongue provoked 
A bitter hate : thence first on me there fell 
The blight of calumny. Forever thence, 
Ulysses terrified and threatened me, 
Spread poisonous rumors through the camp, and 
sought, I2 5 

Conscious of his own guilt, my taking off. 
Nor did he rest until, with Calchas' help — 
But why do I thus to no purpose dwell 
On his ingratitude? why you delay, 
If ye hold all the Greeks alike ? Enough '3° 

Have ye already heard : now wreak your wrath ! 
'Tis what Ulysses wishes, and the sons 
Of Atreus will reward you lavishly. " 

Blind to a plot so deep, and Grecian craft, 
We burn the more to learn and know the truth. r 3S 
False-hearted, feigning fear, he speaks again : 
" Oft wished the Greeks to fly, forsaking Troy, 
And, weary of war's long delay, depart. 
Would they had gone ! Yet e'er as oft, fierce gales 
At sea blockaded them, or at the winds J -* 6 

They flinched when on the point to go. But, ah ! 
All heaven did thunder with the storm, when once 
The maple framework of this horse was up ! 
In doubt, we sent Eurypylus to get 
The oracles of Phoebus, from whose shrine ^s 

This hard response came back: When first ye sought 
7 n he Trojan shores, O Greeks, ye cal?7ied the winds 
With blood of maiden slam. With blood again, 



44 THE ^ENEID. 



Beg your return, and with a Grecian life 

Appease the gods.. When this command we heard, T 5° 

Each heart stood still, an icy shiver searched 

The very marrow of our bones, in dread 

Who 'twas the fates decreed, or Phoebus claimed. 

Then 'twas with loud pretence Ulysses dragged 

The prophet Calchas in our midst, and asked 'ss 

W T hat meant this bidding of the gods. There were 

Who warned me of the trickster's fell design, 

Yet unprotesting saw my fate draw near. 

Ten days the seer was mute : he feigned the while 

Unwillingness by voice of his to doom l6 ° 

Or any soul devote to death. At length, 

And loth, urged by Ulysses' loud demands, 

He spake the word : me marked he for the knife. 

"And all approved : the fate each feared for him, 
Turned to the doom of one, they lightly bore. l6 s 

The evil day was now at hand : for me 
The sacrificial rites, the salted cakes, 
The fillets for my head were bid. I own 
I snatched me from the jaws of death; my chains 
I broke ; I skulked all night, and lay concealed l 7 Q 
Within the muddy rushes of a lake, 
Till they should set their sails, if sail they would. 
No more I hope to see my own old home, 
My darling children or my longed-for sire. 
Ah ! hap from them, for my escape, the Greeks 1 7s 
Will wring the penalty, and expiate 
My crime in their unhappy death. And so, 
By all the gods, in all the conscious power 
Of truth, in holy faith if any still 



THE ^NEID. 



45 



There be in man, I beg thee pity woes l8 ° 

So deep, a soul that suffers undeserved." 

For tears like these, we spare his life and give 
Our pity too, Priam the first to loose 
The cords and chains that bind the man, and speak 
To him these kindly words : "Who'er thou art, l8 5 
Forget henceforth the Greeks, now dead to thee ; 
Be ours, and tell me true the things I ask. 
Why built they this huge monster of a horse ? 
Whose thought was it? What' purpose does it serve? 
Is't votive gift or enginery of war ?" *9° 

Sinon, instructed in the Grecian plot 
And stratagem, lifts to the stars his hands 
From fetters free : " Oh ye eternal fires," 
He cries, " inviolable sanctities, 

Ye altars and the cruel knife I fled, x 95 

Ye holy fillets I a victim wore, 
Bear witness ye, it is my sacred right 
To sunder my allegiance to the Greeks, 
To hate the race, and all their frauds unearth ! 
My country's laws no longer fetter me. 2 °° 

Do thou, O Troy, but make thy promise good, 
And, saved thyself, keep faith with me, and I 
The truth will tell, and pay thee richly back. 

" The Greeks' sole hope, their trust e'er since the war 
Began, stood always in Minerva's help. 2 °5 

But from the time, when godless Diomed 
And, machinator of all wickedness, 
Ulysses from her holy temple dared 
The sacred statue of the goddess tear — 
Dared kill the keepers of her citadel, 2I ° 



46 THE ^ENEID. 



Spirit away her sacred effigy, 
And touch with bloody hands her virgin locks — 
From that time forth the ardor of the Greeks 
Hath ebbed and, faltering, oozed away, their power 
Been broken, and the goddess' favor gone. 2r s 

Nor did Minerva give a doubtful sign. 
Scarce was the statue set in camp, when gleams 
Of fire shot from her angry eyes, salt sweat 
Ran down her limbs, and, marvellous to tell, 
Thrice from the ground she leaped, shaking her 
shield 22 ° 

And quivering spear. At once, so Calchas sang, 
Must they fly o'er the sea, nor e'er would Troy 
Succumb to Grecian arms, till they anew 
In Greece observed the omens, and restored 
The goddess, o'er the sea brought back with them 22 5 
In their curved boats. So now to native Greece 
They go. Arms and companion deities 
They ready make, and suddenly, the sea 
Re-crossed, will hither come again. For thus 
Calchas the omen reads. They, at his hint, 2 3° 

In lieu of Pallas' statue built this frame 
To heal her wounded honor and atone 
Their impious crime. He bade them raise aloft 
This monster thing, of timbers interstayed, 
And lift it to the sky, so through your gates 2 35 

It be not drawn, nor dragged within your walls 
And thus again your people guarded be 
By their Minerva's former tutelage. 
For should your hands defile this gift to her, 
Then utter wreck — which rather may the gods ' 2 +° 



THE ^ENEID. 47 



On Calchas turn! — shall come to Priam's realm 
And people ; but if by your hands it go 
Into your city, then shall Troy at will 
Move mighty war on Argos' walls, and Fate 
Exchange our children's destiny for yours." 2 ^ 

Through such deceit and Sinon's liar's art, 
His tale is credited : forced tears and craft 
Take captive us, whom neither Diomed, 
Nor Thessaly's Achilles, nor ten years, 
Nor yet a thousand sail could overthrow. 2 5<> 

Nay, just at this, a greater horror still, 
Far more appalling to our wretched souls, 
Follows and terrifies our startled hearts. 
Laocoon, a priest to Neptune he, 
Chosen by lot,* at the holy altar stands 2 55 

A huge bull sacrificing when, behold ! 
Twin snakes — I shudder at it still — stretch out 
Upon the sea in monster folds, and glide 
Over the tranquil ocean, neck and neck, 
From Tenedos to shore. Above the waves 2(5 ° 

They rise abreast; their bloody crests o'ertop 
The tide : far out to sea their bodies reach, 
Their huge backs sinuous with curves. There comes 
The sound of rushing through the brine. And now 
They touch the land, their glaring eyes suffused 26 5 
With blood and fire, and lick their hissing mouths 
With quivering tongues. Pale at the sight we fly. 
Still side by side, they seek Laocoon : 
At first, his two sons there, each serpent winds 
Its folds their little bodies round, and bites 2 7° 

Their writhing limbs. Him next they seize, the while 



4 S THE ^NEID. 



He to the rescue hurries, spear in hand. 

Wound in their mighty coils, twice round the waist, 

Twice round his throat their scaly backs they twist, 

Then top him with their heads and arching necks. 2 75 

He struggles with his hands to loose their grip, 

His fillets soaked with blood and venom black, 

And lifts the while heart-rending cries to heaven, 

Like bellowings of some wounded bull, that flies 

The altar when the ill-aimed axe has glanced 28 ° 

From off his neck. The two snakes glide away 

Toward the tall temple, making for the shrine 

Of stern Minerva, hiding at her feet 

Beneath the orbit of the goddess' shield. 

Then doth indeed through all our trembling hearts 28 5 

Fresh terror run. Laocoon, we say, 5 

Thus justly expiates the^crime he did 

In casting weapon at the sacred wood 

And thrusting in its side his cursed spear. 

All shout that to the temple must the horse 2 9° 

Be dragged, the favor of the goddess sought. 

We breach the walls, and ope the city's gates. 

All lend a hand, put rollers under foot, 

And rig the neck with hempen tackle. Up 

Stalks the infernal engine toward the walls, 2 ?s 

Swarming with foes. Boys and innocent girls 

Sing sacred songs around it, glad to put 

Their hands upon the rope. Onward it moves, 

A menace reeling to the city's midst. 

Oh native land! Oh Ilium, home of gods ! 300 

Oh walls of Troy, illustrious in war ! 

Four times upon the threshold of the gate 



THE ^NEID. 49 



It stumbled, and the clattering of arms 

As oft was heard within its womb. Yet blind 

With folly, heedless, on we press and lift 3 °s 

The direful monster to the citadel. 

'Tis then Cassandra tells our coming doom, 

Whom, through Apollo's work, no Trojan heeds. 

Wretches, that day to be our last, we deck 

The city 's temples with the festal leaf. 310 

Then the sky turns ; night rushes from the sea, 
In shadows deep enfolding heaven and earth, 
And the Greeks' plot. Silent the Trojans lie 
Throughout the town; sleep folds their weary limbs. 

Meantime the Greek reserve from Teneclos, 31s 

Their boats in line, sought the familiar shore 
'Neath the deep silence of the kindly moon. 
Soon as the royal barge displayed a light, 
Protected by the gods' unfriendly aid, 
Sinon lets stealthily the imprisoned Greeks 320 

Out of the womb and piny cells. The horse, 
Laid open, yields them to the outer air. 
Forth from the hollow wood the exulting chiefs 
Pour out, escaping by a hanging rope ; 
Tisandrus ; Sthenelus ; Ulysses grim ; 335 

Athamas ■ Thoas ; Neoptolemus, 
Achilles' son ; Machaon, in the van ; 
And Menelaus; and Epeiis who 
Devised the horse. They seize the city, dead 
With sleep and wine. They kill the sentinels, 330 
Through open gates admit all their allies, 
And reunite their forces as designed. 

It was the hour when the first slumber falls 
4 



50 THE ^NEID. 



On weary men, and, sweetest gift of gods, 

Creeps over them. In sleep, before my eyes 335 

Sad Hector seemed to stand and burst in tears. 

So looked he, black with dust and blood, when him 

The two-horse chariot dragged, his swollen feet 

Torn through with thongs. * Ah me, the sight it was ! 

How little like that Hector who came back 340 

Clad in Achilles' spoils, or him who set 

The Grecian fleet on fire with Trojan torch, — 

So haggard now with squalid beard, and locks 

All stiff with blood, and many a wound he got 

About his country's walls ! In tears myself, 345 

I seemed at once to speak the. man and say 

These solemn words : " O light of Troy ! O hope 

The Trojans trusted most! What toils so late 

Have kept thee, Hector ? From what shores dost come, 

Awaited long ? Worn out, how gladly now 350 

On thee we gaze, after so many deaths 

Of friends, such various- calamities 

Of city and of citizen. What hap 

Unmerited hath marred that noble face? 

Oh why those wounds do I behold ? " He naught 355 

Explained, nor stayed to hear my idle quests, 

But from the bottom of his heart he groaned, 

And cried, " Oh ! fly, son of a goddess. Snatch 

Thee from these flames. The foe is on the walls. 

Troy tumbles from her lofty top. Enough 360 

Already done for native land and Priam ! 

Could any hand guard Troy, my right hand 'twas 

Had guarded it. To thee her sacred wares, 

Her country's gods doth Troy commend. Take them 



THE iENEID. 



Companions of thy fortune, and for them 365 

A city seek which thou shalt mighty make, 
And wander then the waves no longer.''' Thus, 
And from the inner shrines the fillets brings, 
The potent Vesta and the eternal fire. 

Meantime confusing cries of grief arise 37° 

From every quarter of the town. Although 
My father's house, Anchises', lay remote 
And hidden by the trees, the sounds grow clear, 
The noise of battle thicks. I start from sleep, 
Climb the roof-top, and stand with ears alert. 375 

So when, before the raging wind, the fire 
Is in the grass, or from the hills the flood, 
Swift rushing forth, sweeps o'er the fields, sweeps off 
The ripening crops, the labors of the ox, 
And drags the forests down, struck terror-dumb 3S0 
The shepherd stands on some high boulder's top, 
And listens to the roar. Ah, then how plain 
Our trust betrayed, the treachery of the Greeks ! 
Already falls, the fire o'ercoming it, 
The stately mansion of Dei'phobus. 385 

Next burns Ucalegon : Sigea's straits 
Glow broad beneath the glare. The shouts of men, 
The blare of trumpets rise. Rashly I snatch 
My arms, nor stop to think how little use 
There is in them, for burns my, soul to bring 3qo 

A band of friends together in the fight, 
And with them rush into the citadel. 
Anger and rage precipitate my mind, 
And it seems glorious, sword in hand to die ! 

Lo ! then escaping from the Grecian steel, 395 



52 THE ^NEID. 



Pantheus, the son of Othrys — priest he was 

In Phoebus' temple — headlong to our door 

Runs with the sacred wares and vanquished gods, 

And drags his little grandson by the hand. 

"Pantheus," I cry, "where hottest is the fight ? 400 

What rampart are we holding?" Scarce I speak, 

When with a groan he answers, "Troy's last day, 

The inevitable hour, has come at last. 

Trojans we were; and Troy it was ; gone now 

The mighty glory of the Trojan race ! 405 

Merciless Jupiter gives all to Greece : 

Greeks lord it o'er the blazing town. Midway 

The city stands the towering horse, and pours 

Forth armed men, while Sinon spreads the flames 

And boasts his victory. Reserves pour in 410 

Through gates thrown both wings back ; as numerous 

They seem, as e'er from great Mycenae came. 

They barricade with spears the narrow streets ; 

The sword stands ready, edge and gleaming point 

Drawn to the death. Our guardsmen at the ports 415 

Scarce make a fight's beginning, fending off 

In random skirmishes." At Pantheus' words, 

The gods inspiring me, into the flames 

And fight I rush, where'er sad fate, where'er 

The din and heaven-echoing clamor call. 420 

Ripheus, and Iphitus our oldest man, 

Ally themselves with me. Seen by the moon, 

Dymas and Hypanis increase our band, 

And Mygdon's son, Chorcebus, who by chance 

Had sped to Troy those latter days, on fire 425 

With a wild passion for Cassandra. He, 



THE 2ENEID. 



53 



A would-be son-in-law, came bringing troops 

To Priam and the Trojans' aid, poor wretch ! 

Who heedeth not the auguries of his bride, w 

Soon as I saw them massing for the fight, ^ ^° 

I thus began : " Warriors ! hearts brave in vain, 

If ye dare follow me who laugh at death ! 

Ye see the fortune of the state. All gods 

By whom this empire stood have fled, their shrines 

And altars left. The city ye would save 435 

To ashes burns. Come death ! but let it come 

Amid the rush of battle ; e'en defeat 

One refuge hath — the refuge of despair." 

Their courage thus to desperation nerved, 

Like robber wolves in darkness and in mist, 440 

Whom the fierce rage of hunger blindly drives — 

Their whelps, their dry jaws smacking, left behind — 

Through battle and through foes to certain death 

We run, and force our way straight through the town, 

The black night wrapping us in hollow gloom. 445 

The death, the slaughter of that night, what words 
Can tell, or who find tears to match its woes ! 
Mistress of years, the ancient city falls ; 
And through her streets, within her very homes, 
Upon the sacred thresholds of her gods, 4 5° 

Are heaped the bodies of her dead. Nor yet 
The Trojans only pay the mulct of blood : 
Though beat, still in their souls springs valor up. 
The Greeks, though victors, fall : and everywhere 
There comes the wail of grief, the look of fear, 455 
And death's pale shadow flitting to and fro. 

First Greek to meet us comes Androgeos, 



54 



THE ;ENEID. 



Leading a heavy squad and taking us 

Unwittingly for friendly ranks. At once 

He speaks us fair : " Haste, soldiers ! Why so late, * 6 ° 

Ye sluggards, when the rest are sacking Troy, 

Plundering it while it burns ? Is it but now 

Ye come from off your lumbering boats ? " He spake 

And quick, no honest answer coming back, 

Saw he had fallen in the midst of foes. 465 

Struck dumb, he started backward as he spake, 

Like one who, walking through a briery copse, 

Treads heedless on a snake, and terrified, 

As springs its head and swelling purple neck, 

Flies sudden back. Not less at sight of us 470 

Androgeos trembling turns. We make a rush, 

With closed ranks hedge the foe, and slaughter them 

O'ercome by fear and ignorant of the place. 

Fortune breathes favor on our first attempt. 

At this, exulting in success and full 4 75 

Of fight, Chorcebus cries : " Where Fortune first 

The way of safety points, and shows herself 

A friend, there, comrades, let us follow her. 

Let us change shields, the Grecian armor don. 

What matters it, in dealing with a foe, 4S0 

If it be courage wins or strategem ? 

They shall themselves the arms provide." So speaks, 

And dons the crested helmet, and the shield 

Blazoned with carvings, of Androgeos, 

And buckles at his side the Grecian sword. 4§s 

Ripheus the like, and Dymas does the same, 

And merrily the others follow them : 

Each arms him from our recent spoils. We march, 



THE ^ENEID. 



55 



Blent in with Greeks, in armor not our own. 

Full many a contest hand to hand we wage w° 

That tangled night, and many of the Greeks 

We hurl to hell. Some scatter to their boats 

And hurry to the trusty shore. Some scale 

Again in shameful fright the monster horse, 

And in its well known belly hide. 495 

Alas! 
What fools, e'en gods to trust when not our friends ! 
Lo ! they were dragging by her tumbled hair 
Cassandra, Priam's virgin daughter, forth 
From out the temple of Minerva. She 
In vain lifted her pleading eyes to heaven — .5°° 

Only her eyes ; her slender .hands were tied. 
That sight Choroebus could not bear, but dashed, 
To frenzy wrought, death staring in his face, 
Into the very centre of their lines : 
We follow all, and charge in solid ranks. 505 

Here first we suffer, to the shots exposed 
Of our own friends upon the temple's roof: 
A horrid butchery ensues, by fault 
Of armor changed and sight of Grecian crests. 
With roars of rage, the virgin from them torn, 510 

Rallying from every hand the Greeks charge back, 
Ajax fiercest of all, both Atreus' sons, 
And the whole army of the Dolops. So, 
Encountering winds, caught in tornado, writhe — 
The wind from West, the wind from South, the wind 5 j 5 
From East triumphant on its orient steeds : 
The forests roar, and Nereus, dashed with foam, 
His trident waves, and from its lowest deeps 



5 6 THE ^NEID. 



Stirs up the sea. They, too, appear again 

Whom we had routed by our trick, and driven t > 2 ° 

Amid the dark night's gloom throughout the town. 

At once they know the shields, the lying spears, 

And mark the accent of a foreign tongue. 

Their numbers overwhelm us instantly. 

Chorcebus is the first to fall, struck down, 525 

There at the fighting goddess' shrine, by arm 

Of Penelus. Next Ripheus falls, most just 

And righteous man in Troy ; yet not for him 

Are laxed that day the mandates of the gods. 

Die Hypanis and Dymas, killed by friends. 530 

Nor thy rare piety, nor Phebus'- cowl, 

Saves thee from falling, Pantheus. Witness ye, 

Ashes of Troy, and latest breath of you, 

My countrymen, I shunned not, when ye fell, 

Weapon or onslaught of the Greeks. Had fate 535 

Decreed my fall, I earned it by my blows. 

Thence forced, we scatter, — Iphitus with me, 

And Pelias — Iphitus weighed down with years, 

And Pelias too made tardy by the wound 

Ulysses gave. JfThat instant rose a shout 540 

That summoned us to Priam's palace, where 

We saw a mighty battle rage, as if 

There were no other war than there, or none 

Had fallen yet in all the town — so hot 

The fight, the Greeks beleaguering the house, 545 

And charging 'neath locked shields against the gates. 

Their ladders hang upon the walls. They climb 

The steps e'en to the jambs. With the left hand 

They lift their shields to keep the missiles off, 



THE jENEID. 



57 



And with the right cling to the battlements. 550 

The Trojans, fighting back, tear from the roof 

Its towers and tiles ; with weapons such as these, 

Now that the last has come, e'en in death's jaws 

They ready make their fortunes to defend. 

Some hurl down gilded beams, the proud reliefs 555 

That tell the valor of their ancient sires. 

With drawn swords others hold the doors below, 

And at them stand on guard in solid mass. 

Our souls beat high to reach the palace walls, 

And to our fainting friends bring help and 'heart. 560 

There was an entrance by. a secret door, 
A way connecting Priam's palaces, 
A gate left open in the rear, whereby, 
While Ilium stood, Andromache the sad 
Oft unattended used to go, when she 565 

Her Hector's parents sought, and led her boy 
Astyanax unto his father's sire. 
By this I reach the ridges of the roof, 
Whence the despairing Trojans were in vain 
Hurling their harmless missiles down. 'Tis there 570 
We pry with bars about a tower that stands 
Just on the edge, built from the roof so high 
It overlooked all Troy, the Grecian fleet, 
The Achaian camp. Just where 'twixt roof and tower 
The joints are lax, we from its dizzy height 575 

Rip it, and throw it o'er. Swift tumbling down, 
It carries ruin with a crash, and far 
And near buries the Greeks beneath its fall. 
Yet others take their place. And meantime stones, 
All sorts of missiles fly unceasingly. 5S0 



5 3 THE ^NEID. 



Pyrrhus, before the very vestibule, 
Stands at its entrance, and exulting shouts, 
Gleaming in arms and mail of shining brass. 
So in the spring, the poison-eating snake, 
Which in the earth through winter's cold lay swoln, 585 
Now fresh, its skin sloughed off, and sleek with youth, 
Its breast uplifted, rolls its slimy back 
Up to the sun, its tongue with triple fangs 
Vibrating from its mouth. Great Periphas, 
Automedon his armor-bearer, once 590 

The driver of Achilles' steeds, and all 
His Scyrian soldiers with him charge the house, 
And torches fling upon the roof. Himself 
Among the first, stout battle-axe in hand, 
Bursts through the gates, and from their hinges splits 595 
The doors. Already hath he cut the planks, 
Stove in the firm resisting wood, and made 
An opening huge with yawning mouth. Within, 
The house lies open ; and its spacious courts, 
The halls of Priam and the ancient kings 6co 

Appear, and armed men standing at the sill. 

Still farther in, wailings and cries of grief 
Confuse the ear ; the lofty ceilings ring 
With women's lamentations, and their shrieks 
Assail the glittering stars. Through the vast rooms ^°s 
They flit in terror, catching hold of doors, 
Clutching and kissing them. Forward, with all 
His father's violence strides Pyrrhus on. 
Nor bar nor guard can stay him. Bolts give back 
Before the tireless battering-ram. Down go 6l ° 

The doors wrenched from the hinge. Might makes 
its wav. 



THE ^NEID. 59 



The Greeks an entrance force, and, pouring through, 

Slaughter the first they meet, and every nook 

Cram full of soldiery. So torrents burst 

The river's banks and spread afoam ; so wash 6l 5 

Away the levees built to keep them in ; 

So roll in tumbling waves upon the fields, 

And from the farm its barns and cattle sweep. 

There saw I Pyrrhus wantoning in blood, 

And Atreus' sons advancing to the front. 62 ° 

There saw I Hecuba, and in her train 

The spouses of her hundred sons. I saw 

Before the altar Priam's blood bedew 

The fires he had so reverently kept ; 

Those fifty chambers fall, hope of the race, 62 5 

Their studding rich with native gold and spoils. 

Whate'er the fire-fiend spares, the Greeks secure. 

Perhaps you ask me what was Priam's fate. 
Soon as he saw the captured city's doom, 
His palace sacked, Greeks in its sacred midst, 6 3° 

Across his shoulders paralyzed with age 
The old man threw his armor, long disused — 
So useless now! — belted his nerveless sword, 
And, dying, charged where thickest came the foe. 

Midway the court, beneath the open sky 6 35 

Stood a great altar, and, o'erarching that, 
Enfolding in its shade the household gods, 
A very ancient laurel. Hecuba 
And all her brood had hither flocked like doves 
Before the tempest, huddling round the shrines 6 +° 
And clinging to the statues of the gods. 
Soon as she saw her Priam snatching up 



6o THE ^NEID. 



The armor of his youth, she cried: " Alas ! 

My wretched lord ! What reckless frenzy is't 

That girds thee thus with arms ? Or where dost thou ^s 

Thus headlong rush ? Not such the help, nor such 

The champion we need — no, e'en though now 

Were my own Hector nigh. But yield thee here : 

This altar all shall shelter, or we all 

Will die together." Thus she spake, endeared 6 5° 

The old man back to her, and pressed him sit 

Upon the altar-step. 

Lo ! flying then 
From Pyrrhus' bloody hand, Polites, one 
Of Priam's sons, the gantlet of the foe 
And of their weapons runs \ wounded he leaps 6 55 
Through the long porticos and emptied halls, 
While Pyrrhus follows, eager to strike home 
The deadly blow. Now, now he seems to clutch 
Him with his hand, now pricks him with his spear, 
Until at last, before his parents' eyes, 66 ° 

Into their presence even as he bursts, 
He falls aheap, and in a gush of blood 
Pours out his life. No longer then, though death 
Encircle him, can Priam hold his peac^ 
Or curb his anger or his voice. "On thee, 66 s 

Who mak'st me see the murder of my son, 
And with his death hath fouled a father's face, 
On thee, for such effrontery, for such 
An outrage, may the gods, if yet there be 
Justice enough in heaven to care for such, 6 /° 

Requite thy worth and pay thee thy deserts ! 
Not such, though Priam was his foe, was that 



THE ^NEID. 6 1 



Achilles whom thou art a liar to call 

Thy sire. He blushed to violate the rights, 

The faith due suppliants e'en. He gave me back 6 75 

For burial my Hector's bloodless corse, 

And sent me home in safety to my realm." 

Thus as the old man spake he hurled his spear, 

Too faint to wound. From off the mocking brass 

Repulsed, it hung all harmless from the top 6So 

Of Pyrrhus' shield, while Pyrrhus thus roared back : 

"Bear then — thyself the messenger shalt go — 

Thy message to my sire Achilles ; nor 

Forget to tell him these vile deeds of mine, 

And how degenerate Neoptolemus ! 68 s 

Now die ! " y And even as he spake he dragged 

Him trembling to the very altar's face, 

Down-slipping in his son's thick-puddling gore ; 

With left hand twisted up his hair, with right 

Drew back the glittering sword, and to the hilt 6 ^° 

Drove it into his side. Such was the end 

Of Priam's fortunes, such the fate of him 

Who, Asia's sovereign once, so many lands, 

So many tribes beneath his haughty sway, 

Saw Troy to ashes burn and Pergamos 6 95 

In ruins. On the shore his great trunk lies, 

His head from off his shoulders torn, a corse 

Without a name. 

Then all at once L felt 
A torturing fear. I stood o'erwhelmed-, for, when 
I saw the king, his age the same, breathe out 7 0C 

His life from such a cruel stab, there came 
To me the image of my own dear sire ; 



62 THE iENEID. 



There came the thought of my deserted wife 

Creiisa, and my home to pillage left, 

And the exposure of my little son 705 

lulus. Back I turn to see what friends 

Are at my side. Exhausted, all are gone, 

Leaping to earth or fainting in the flames. 

Soon as I found myself alone, I saw, 
In Vesta's temple, Helen, keeping close 7 l ° 

And slyly lurking in a shadowy nook. 
The bright flames flash upon her, as I move 
Peering at every thing and every where. 
Alike the curse of Troy and native land, 
Alike in terror of the Trojans — who 715 

Abhorred her as the overthrow of Troy — 
And of the Grecians' vengeance and the wrath 
Of her deserted husband, she had hid, 
And by the altar sat, a thing to hate. 
My soul flashed fire. The maddening impulse came 7 2 ° 
To avenge my falling country, and to wreak 
The penalty of her accursed~crimes. \ 

" Shall she," unharmed forsooth, return to see 
Sparta and native Greece, — go back a queen 
In triumph borne, and look upon her home, 725 

Her husband, parents, and her children all, 
Accompanied by throngs of Trojan dames 
And Trojan slaves, while Priam by the sword 
Lies low, Troy wrapped in flames, the Dardan shore 
So oft asweat with blood ? Never ! For though 730 
No memory loves the name that wreaks revenge 
Upon a woman, nor is any praise 
For such a feat, yet shall I stand approved 



THE ^NEID. 63 



If I root out this pest and execute 

The sentence she hath earned. I shall delight 735 

To sate my burning fever for revenge, 

The ashes of my countrymen atone. " 

Thus was I flaming, near to frenzy wrought, 
When my sweet mother, never to my eyes 
So manifest before, — goddess confessed, — 740 

Broke on my sight, and through the darkness shone 
In holy light, such and majestic there 
As to trie inhabitants of heaven she seems. 
With her right hand she held me back the while, 
Opened her rosy mouth, and said : " My son, 745 

What wrong hath raised in thee such headlong rage ? 
What is this frenzy ? Where is thy regard 
For those we cherish both ? Wilt thou not first 
Think where thou leav'st thy sire Anchises, Weak 
With years, — whether Creiisa still survives, 750 

Or still Ascanius thy son ? Round them 
On every hand the Grecian soldiers hunt, 
And, but my care kept guard, ere now the flames 
Had forced them thence, or savage sword had drunk 
Their blood. Hate not Helen of Sparta's face, 755 
Nor Paris blame : the gods', the gods' ill-will 
It is, that blasts this realm, and from its height 
Hurls Ilium down. Behold ! for I will tear 
Aside the cloud that, veiling now thy gaze, 
Blunts mortal sight and shadows it in mist ; 760 

Fear not thy mother's bidding, nor refuse 
Her mandates to obey. Here, where thou see'st 
This mass of fragments, stone from stone torn off, 
Neptune, with his great trident, shakes the walls 



64 THE .ENEID. 



And tottering foundations of the town, 765 

And roots it from the earth. Here Juno holds v 

Fiercest of all, the Scaean gates' approach, 

And mad with rage, and girded with a sword, 

Calls from the fleet the host of her allies. 

See ! now Minerva sits the temple's top, 770 

Flashing with storm and savage Gorgon's head. 

Even the Father fires the Greeks with zeal 

And conquering might, and spurs himself the gods 

Against the Trojan arms. Take flight, my son, 

And to the battle put an end. With. thee 775 

Will I be every where, and bear thee safe 

Back to thy father's door." Ere she had said, 

She melted in the fissured shades of night. 

Demons of dread and mighty deities 

Hover in sight, implacable to Troy. • 7S0 

Then seemed me Ilium to sink in flames, 
And Troy, that Neptune helped to build, to heave 
From its foundations. So on mountain-top 
Woodsmen, vying together, press the fall 
Of some old ash they circle, as they cut 7S5 

It round with frequent clip of iron axe : 
Incessantly it nods, and trembling bows 
The foliage of its shaking top, until 
By littles yielding to the blows, at last 
It gives a groan and, from the summit hurled, 790 

Drags ruin down. 

Descending from the roof, 
The goddess for my guide, I pass between 
The flame and foe : the weapons of the Greeks 
Give way ; the flames recede. 'But when I reach 



THE ^NEID. 65 




The threshold of my father's ancient house, 795 

And fain would bear him to the mountain heights 

At once, and so begin entreating him, 

Disdains he to prolong his life, now Troy 

Lies waste, or suffer exile. " Ye," he says, 

" Whose blood is unimpaired by age, whose powers So ° 

Stand firm in their own strength, make good your flight. 

Had the celestials wished my life prolonged, 

They would have saved this home of mine. Enough, 

More than enough, that I one city's fall 

Have seen, on^e captured town survived ! Thus, thus So 5 

I lay my body* down : bid me farewell, 

And go. This my* own hand shall find me death. 

The foe will pity though he plunder me. 

'Tis naught, the losing of a grave. Too long, 

Hated by gods, I drag my useless years, 8l ° 

E'er since the Sire of gods and King of men 

Smote me with thunder-blasts, and scorched with fire." 

He kept on thus, and lay immovable, 
While we were bathed in tears, — Ascanius, 
My wife Creiisa, all the house, — lest he 8l 5 

In his own ruin drag down all, and force 
Impending fate. He would not yield, but clung 
To his resolve, and kept his post unmoved. 

Once more I rush to arms, courting e'en death, 
Poor wretch, for what can wit or fortune more ? 82 ° 
" Did'st think, my sire, that I could fly and leave 
Thee to thy fate ? or could my father's lips 
Charge me so base a thought ? If the gods please 
That naught escape in such a city's fall, — 
If 'tis thy will and pleasure thee and thine 82 5 

5 






66 THE yENEID. 



To add to Troy's perdition, then the door 

Wide open lies to such a death as that ! 

For Pyrrhus from the swimming butchery 

Of Priam will apace be here, who slew 

The son before the father's face, and then 8 3° 

The father at the altar front. Is it 

For this, good mother, that through fire and steel 

Thou rescuest me ? that I may see the foe 

Here in the sanctuary of my home, — 

Here, weltering in each other's blood, my sire, * 8 ^s 

Creiisa, and my boy, Ascanius ? 

Arms, men, bring arms ! The hour that is our last 

Its martyrs claims. Front me the Greeks again : 

Let me renew the battle I began : 

This day we shall not all die unavenged." 8 ^° 

But as I buckle on my sword, anew, 
Adjust my shield, my left arm through its loops, 
And sally from the house, lo ! round my feet 
My wife upon the threshold clings, and lifts 
Little lulus in his father's way : — 8 45 

" If thou upon thy death wilt rush, yet take 
Thou also us, so we thy peril share • 
But if, a warrior tried, with arms in hand 
Thou hast in them one lingering hope, then first 
Defend thy home ! With whom else shall be left 8 5° 
Little lulus, or thy sire, or she 
Thou once did'st call thy wife." Imploring thus, 
She filled the whole house with her cries ; when — strange 
The tale — there came a sudden,- wondrous sign. 
For lo ! e'en as his wretched parents clasped 8 ss 

And gazed upon lulus, on his head 



THE ^NEID. 



67 



There seemed a slender jet of light to blaze ; 

Yet, harmless in its touch, the flame did lick 

His clustering hair and round his temples feed. 

Affright, we rushed to beat his burning locks, 86 ° 

And water flung to quench the holy fire. 

But joyfully father Anchises then 

Raised to the stars his eyes, and stretched his hands 

To heaven, and cried : " Almighty Jupiter, 

If any prayer can turn thee, look on us ! 86 5 

Grant us but this, and if we merit aught 

For piety, then, Father, give thy help 

And sure confirm this present augury!" 

Scarce hath the old man spoken : instantly 
It thunders on the left ; falling from heaven 8 7° 

With a great burst of light, a star shoots through 
The darkness like a shaft. High o'er the roof 
We see it glide, then clear on Ida's wood 
It sets, so signalling our course, while still 
The long line of its furrow gleams, and far 8 75 

And wide its pathway smokes with sulphurous fumes. 
At this o'ercome at last, my father lifts 
His face to heaven, gives praise unto the gods, 
And adoration to the sacred star. 
" Quick, quick, no more delay ; I follow thee, 88 ° 

And wheresoe'er thou leadest, there am I. 
Gods of my native land, preserve my race, 
My grandson save ! Your augury is this, 
And Troy is in your keeping. * Yea, my son, 
I yield, nor more refuse to go with thee. " 88 5 

He spake ; while clearer still, throughout the town, 
The roaring fire is heard, and nearer rolls 



68 THE ^ENEID. 



The flaming heat. " Come then, dear father, cling 

About my neck ; thee on my shoulders I 

Will lift, nor ever tire 'neath such a load. s 9° 

Whatever haps, to both alike shall fall, 

Our safety and our danger ever one. 

Little lulus at my side shall go, 

Creiisa on our track and well behind. 

Note, servants, what I say. There is a knoll 8 95 

Outside the city as ye go, an old 

Deserted temple, Ceres' once, and, near 

To that, an ancient cypress, which our sires 

Have kept religiously for many years : 

By various paths there will we rendezvous. 900 

Thou, father, take in hand the sacred wares, 

Our country's gods. Fresh from so fierce a fight, 

I may not touch them, stained with blood, nor till 

I shall have washed me in a living stream.*' 

I spake, and with a tawny lion skin 905 

Robed my broad shoulders and my bended neck. 
I lift my load : Little lulus twines 
His hand in my right hand, and out of step 
Trots at his father's heels. Behind us walks 
My wife. We go through places dark with shade ; 9" 
And me, whom late no charge of foemen's steel, 
Nor Greeks enmassed in hostile ranks could move, 
Now every whisper terrifies, — no sound 
So faint it does not torture me with fear, — 
Like anxious for my hand-mate and my load. 915 

Just as I neared the gates, and thought I saw 
The way all clear, sudden there seemed to break 
Upon the ear the thud of many feet. 



THE 7ENEID. 69 



Forth looking through the gloom, my father cries : 
"O son, son, fly! They come! Their glistening 
shields, 920 

Their shining helms I see." In my alarm, 
I know not what malignant power confused 
And robbed me of my head. For while I took 
A by-path, leaving the accustomed track, 
Alas ! my wife Creiisa, torn from me 925 

By some unkindly fate, faltered and fell, 
Or strayed away, or sat exhausted down — 
Which 'twas I cannot tell. Ne'er to our eyes 
Since then hath she come back again. Nor till 
We came unto the knoll and Ceres' old 930 

And sacred temple, did I note her lost, 
Or think upon't. Collected there at last, 
Of all she only lacked, eluding sight 
Of everyone, — friends, husband, and her child. 
Frenzied, what god or man did I not curse ? 935 

In all that sack what saw I half so sad ? 
Commending to my friends Ascanius, 
Father Anchises and the Trojan gods, 
I hid them in a sheltered dell, then girt 
My bright arms on, and sought once more the town, 940 
Resolved all hazards to renew, all Troy 
To search, and every peril dare again. 

The walls, the shadowy portals of the gate 
Through which we came, I first essay, and through 
The darkness follow back and note our steps, 945 

And trace them by the glare. A sense of dread, 
The very silence everywhere, all fill 
My soul with terror. Thence I bear me home ; 



7 o 



THE ^NEID. 



Perchance, perchance her feet have wandered there. 

The Greeks have entered it, and hold it all. 950 

Even now the hungry fire rolls o'er the roof 

Before the wind : the flames o'ermaster it ; 

The air is boiling with the heat. I go 

To Priam's palace, visiting again 

The citadel. In its deserted aisles, 955 

At Juno's shrine, picked captains of the guard, 

Phoenix and grim Ulysses, all the while 

Their booty watch ; here everywhere is strewn 

The wealth of Troy, snatched from its burning homes, 

Gods' tables, and great bowls of solid gold, 960 • 

And garments stripped from captives. Round about, 

Long lines of boys and frightened women stand. 

Nay, even I dared to shout throughout the town. 
I filled the streets with outcries, and in vain, 
Sadly her name repeating, called again 965 

And yet again, Creiisa ! till to me, 
Searching and raving endlessly through all 
The houses of the town, rose on my eyes, 
Larger than life, her own sad effigy, . 
Creiisa's very ghost. I stared agape, 970 

My hair stood up, my voice stuck in my throat. 
But soon she spake, and thus dispelled my fears : 
" Sweet husband, why indulge this senseless grief ? 
What comes, comes by the bidding of the gods. 
'Tis not ordained, high heaven's King forbids, 975 
To make Creiisa comrade of thy voyage, 
Thy wanderings long, vast ocean fields to plough, 
Ere to Hesperia thou shalt come, where flows 
The Tuscan Tiber, with its gentle stream, 



THE ^NEID. 



7 1 



Mid fields whose richest crop is valiant men. 980 

There shalt thou win prosperity, a realm, 

A royal wife. Dear as Creiisa was, 

Shed her no tears. Dolop's nor Myrmidon's 

Proud palace shall I see, nor shall I go, 

Trojan and wife of goddess Venus' son, 9S5 

To wait on Grecian women. But the great 

Mother of gods will let me linger here 

Upon these shores. And now farewell. Keep fresh 

My love in loving him, thy child and mine." 

Soon as she spake she faded in thin air, 990 

And left me weeping, longing so to say 

A thousand things. Thrice did I try to throw 

My arms about her there, and thrice her ghost 

Slipped from the empty clutching of my hands, 

Like the airy wind or like a flitting dream. 995 

And so again, the night far gone, I go 
Back to my friends, delighted there to find 
Great numbers of new comrades have come in, 
A wretched band of matrons, men and youth, 
Gathering for exile. From all sides they flock, IOO ° 
Still stout of heart, and ready with their all 
To cross the sea, whatever land I seek. 

By this, the morning star was rising o'er 
Mount Ida's peak, and leading up the dawn. 
The Greeks were masters of the humbled town : IO °5 
No ray of hope to serve it more. I yield, 
Take on my sire, and to the mountains turn. 



THIRD BOOK. 

A FTER the gods saw fit to overthrow 
•*■ ^- The might of Asia and King Priam's race, 

That merited a better destiny — 

After proud Ilium fell, and on the ground 

All Trqy, that Neptune helped to build, in smoke 

And ashes lay, the heavenly auguries 

Forced us to seek far exile and new lands. 

We at Antandros 'neath Mount Ida build 

A fleet, — uncertain yet where fate doth point, 

Or where to settle, — and we get our men 

Together. Scarce hath earliest summer come 

When sire Anchises bids spread to the fates 

Our sails. In tears I leave my native shores, 

The port, the plain where once was Troy, and go 

An exile o'er the ocean, with my men, 

My son, my household and the greater gods. 

Straight off there lies, inhabited and farmed 
By Thracians, sacred too to Mars, the land 
That once was bold Lycurgus' realm. It long 
Had been at peace with Troy, our gods allied 
While fortune favored us. 'Tis here I touch, 
And on the curving beach, unlucky step, 
Lay the foundations of a town, and call 
It by the name of ^Enos, from my own. 

There came a day when I was offering 
Religious rites to Venus and the gods, 



THE ^ENEID. 



73 



Who to cur undertaking had been kind, 

A sleek bull sacrificing on the shore 

To the celestials' mighty sovereign. 

Not far away there chanced to be a knoll, 30 

And on its top a growth of dogwood shoots 

And myrtles bristling with a mass of thorns. 

Approaching it, out of the ground I tried 

To pull a shrub, that with its leafy boughs 

I might the altar cover. Lo ! a sight 35 

I saw, frightful and marvellous to tell ! 

Soon as the trunk I plucked from out the soil, 

Black drops of blood from its torn roots did fall, 

Clotting the sand with gore. Over my flesh 

A chill of horror crept, my blood grew cold *° 

And still with fear. Again I dared, and plucked 

Another limber shoot to learn the cause 

That lurked beneath : but from the bark of this 

The dark blood followed as before. O'ercome, 

I prayed the rustic Nymphs and Mars, who rules 45 

Over these Thracian lands, to sanctify 

The vision and to make the omen good. 

But while the third I tried with stouter wrench, 

And struggled with my knees against the sand, 

Up from the bottom of the knoll — shall I 50 

Speak out or silent be? — a piteous groan 

I heard ; an answering voice came to my ears : 

" Why wound a wretch like me, ^neas ? Spare 

The grave, and cease to foul thy pious hands. 

Troy bore me, not to thee a stranger ; nor 55 

From any root doth this blood flow. Ah ! fly 

This savage land, this avaricious shore ! 



74 



THE iENEID. 



For I am Polydorus : here transfixed, 

An iron crop of spears hath covered me, 

And grown up in sharp javelins." Ah ! then, 6o 

Distraught with doubt and fear, I stared agape, 

My hair stood up, my voice stuck in my throat ! 

Some time before, when luckless Priam felt 
Distrust in Troy's equipment for defence, . 
And saw the city under siege, he sent 6 s 

This Polydorus stealthily — with him 
A goodly weight of gold — unto the king 
Of Thrace to be brought up by him. But he, 
Soon as he saw the Trojan realm a wreck, 
And fortune fled, went over to the side 7° 

Of Agamemnon and his conquering arms, 
Outraged all guest-rite, Polydorus slew, 
And robbed him. O accursed thirst for gold, 
To what dost thou not steel the human heart ! 

Soon as my fright is over, I report 75 

Unto the people's chosen men, my sire 
Especially, these omens of the gods, 
And ask them what they think. One answer comes 
From all alike — to leave that godless land, 
To avoid its treacherous hospitality, 8o 

And tempt the breezes to the fleet. We pay 
Therefore to Polydorus funeral rites : 
The earth is heaped up in a generous mound ; 
Shrines are erected to his ghost, and draped 
With purple fillet and dark cypress branch. 8 5 

Round them the Trojan women walk, their hair un- 
loosed 
As is their wont ; full goblets of fresh milk 



THE iENEID. 



75 



And bowls of consecrated blood we pour; 

Within the grave we lay his soul at rest, 

And last of all we cry aloud, Farewell. 90 

Soon as the sea is calm and winds blow fair, 
And to the deep soft murmuring zephyrs call, 
The sailors launch their boats and line the shore. 
Forth as we sail, the land and town recede. 

Mid-ocean lies a most delightful land, 95 

Unto the mother of the Nereids 
And Neptune sacred, once a floating isle 
Amid the Archipelago, which good 
Bow-god, Apollo, pinned to Myconos 
And high-peaked Gyarus, and made it firm IO ° 

And fit to dwell upon, — no more to be 
The plaything of the winds. To this I sail. 
In harbor snug, this quietest of isles 
Receives us weary with long voyaging. 
We land and bless Apollo's city, while ' io 5 

King Anius, at once Apollo's priest 
And sovereign of the state, with fillets crowned 
And sacred laurel leaves, comes running down 
To meet us, recognizing his old friend 
Anchises. Welcome guests, we clasp right hands, I10 
And enter 'neath his roof. I fall in prayer 
In the god's temple built of mossy rock : 
" To us, so weary, O Apollo, give 
Homes of our own, shelter of walls, a state, 
A city that shall last ! This latter Troy, Ir 5 

Whate'er the Greeks and grim Achilles spared, 
Have in thy care ! Whom shall we follow ? Where 
Dost bid us go ? Where fix our homes ? Give sign, 



j6 THE iENEID. 



O Father, and illuminate our minds ! " 

Scarce thus I spake, when suddenly the walls, 12 ° 
The holy laurel tree, all seemed to shake, 
The very mountain seemed to rock, the shrine 
Unfold, and mutterings from the tripod rise. 
Prostrate we humbly fall, and then a voice 
Comes to our ears : "Brave Trojan men, the land I2 5 
That bore you first from your ancestral stock, 
The same shall take you back to its warm breast. 
Search out your ancient mother -land. For thence 
O'er all the world ^Eneas' house shall rule — 
He and his children's children and their seed/' x 3° 

Apollo thus. Loud murmurs of delight 
Arise : all ask at once what is this land, 
To which Apollo guides our wanderings, 
And bids us to return. My father then, 
Weighing the legends of our ancestors, J 35 

Cries: "Hark, ye leaders of the people, learn 
What 'tis ye may expect. Jove's island, Crete, 
Lies in mid sea with a Mount Ida on't, 
A hundred goodly cities, and a soil 
Most fertile. 'Tis the cradle of our race. IJ *° 

Thence Teucer, founder of our line, if I 
Aright recall what I have heard, first came 
Unto the shores of Troy, and chose his seat 
Of empire there. Nor then stood Ilium 
Nor Troy's high citadel. Thence Cybele, *45 

The mother of the gods, who came and dwelt 
Upon Mount Cybela ; thence too her priests, 
The Corybants, with cymbals made of brass ; 
Thence too the name of Ida to her groves, 



THE ^NEID. 



77 



The inviolable mystery of her rites ; x 5° 

Her lions yoked and tamed to draw her car. 
Therefore go on, and where the gods direct, 
There let us tend, placate the winds, and seek 
The Cretan realm. Nor long the course : if Jove 
Be kind, the third day anchors us in Crete." T 55 

Thus spake he, and due sacrifices made 
Before the shrines — a bull to Neptune ; one, 
Thou beautiful Apollo, unto thee ; 
Black sheep to Storm ; to the fair Zephyrs, white. 

'Tis rumored that Idomeneus the king, l6 ° 

Banished his native realm, hath gone from Crete ; 
Its shores abandoned by our foes, their homes 
Deserted, and their towns left tenantless. 
We leave Ortygia's port, fly o'er the sea, 
And sweep past Naxos' Bacchanalian heights ; ' l6 s 
Past emerald Donysa and Olearos, 
Past snow-white Paros and the Cyclades 
That cluster on the sea, and through the straits 
Made narrow by so many isles, yp goes 
The sailors' cry, the rival crews astir 1 7° 

And briskened by the common stimulus 
That we to Crete and our forefathers go. 
The wind comes up astern, and follows us, 
Till last we reach the Cretans' ancient shores. 
There eagerly I lay foundation walls *75 

To build the city of my hope, and call 
It Pergamos. I urge the men — that name 
Delighting them — to nurse their hearths, and raise 
Defences for their homes. Already now, 
On the dry sands the boats were almost beached, lSo 



78 THE yENEID. 



Our youth intent on marriage and the farm, 
Myself assigning homes and making laws, 
When suddenly a wasting, loathsome plague 
Poisoned the air, and fell on limbs of men, 
On trees and crops, — a pestilential year. l8 s 

They part with life so dear to them, or drag 
Their sickly frames about. The dog-star now 
Hath burned the sterile fields : withers the grass : 
The parching crops refuse to grow. My sire 
Urges us go again, back o'er the sea, r 9° 

To Apollo and Ortygia's oracles, 
Beseech the favor of the god, and learn 
What surcease to our weariness he puts : 
Whence 'tis his bidding we shall look for aid 
In our distress, and where to shape our course. r 95 
'Twas night. Sleep stilled all living things on earth, 
And as I lay in dreams, before my eyes, 
Clear in a flood of light, that from the moon 
At full poured through the open casements, stood 
The sacred figures of the gods and Troy's 2 °° 

Divinities which from the city's flames 
I had brought out with me. 'Twas thus they spake, 
And with these words dispersed my fears : "All that 
Apollo would reveal to thee, didst thou 
Back to Ortygia go, he' tells thee here, 2 °s 

Himself the message sending to your doors. 
Thine arms and thee we follow : Troy burnt low, 
We sail the heaving ocean, thou our guide : 
And we shall also raise to starry fame 
Thy generations hence, and empire give 2I ° 

Unto thy city. Lay foundations great 



THE iENEID. 79 



For future greatness, nor give o'er the toil 
Of exile, lengthen as it may. The scene 
Must shift. Not these the shores Apollo bade 
At Delos; not his will to settle Crete. 2I 5 

There is a place — The Grecians call its name 
Hesperia — an old land, stout at war, 
And rich its soil. The Enotrians tilled it once, 
4f But now, 'tis said that their descendants name 

It Italy — some chieftain's name. 'Tis there 22 ° 

Our birth-place is. There Dardanus did spring, 

And our progenitor Iasius, 

From which stock came our race. Up then, arise, 

And to thine aged father gladly tell 

The truth at last ! Let him seek Corythus . 22 5 

And Italy. Jove doth deny thee Crete." 

Startled by such a vision, and to hear 

The voices of the gods — it was not sleep; 

I seemed to recognize them face^^erface, 

The fillets round their locks,' their very looks — 2 3° 

A cold sweat pouring out from every limb, 

I snatch my body from the bed, lift up 

My palms and voice to heaven, and on the hearth 

A pure libation pour. This honor paid, 

O'erjoyed I set Anchises next at rest, 23 $ 

And tell him all as it occurred. He sees 

At once the double ancestry, the two 

Progenitors, and how the ancient names, 

Confused in later times, misguided him. 

"O son," he cries, "o'erburdened with the fate 2 *° 

Of Troy, Cassandra used alone foretell 

Of fortunes such as these. I mind me, now, 



So THE iENEID. 



She said that such were fated to our race, 
And often named Hesperia, oft spake 
Of the Italian realm. But who believed 2 *5 

The Trojans e'er would go to Italy ? 
Or whom did then Cassandra's prophecies 
E'er influence ? To Phoebus let us yield, 
And, warned by him, follow a better course." 
So spake he. Cheerfully his word we heed, 2 5° 

Abandon this our second settlement, 
And, leaving there a few, set sail and sweep 
O'er the vast ocean in our wooden shells. 
After the fleet is well afloat, nor more 
The land is seen, naught but the sea and sky, 2 55 

The murky rain-clouds gather overhead 
In storm and darkness. In the gloom the waves 
Grow boisterous. The winds incessantly 
Roll up the sea, its mountain surges lift. 
Scattered we toss upon the mighty deep. 26 ° 

The day goes out in tempest, and the night 
Washes away the stars. The lightnings flash, 
And rip the clouds apart. Forced from our course, 
We wander at the mercy of the waves. 
Not Palinurus even can discern 2 - ; 

'Twixt night and day o'erhead, nor find his way 
Amid the billows. Thus the ocean o'er 
We stray three days all darkened into one, 
Three nights without a star. Not till the fourth 
See we the land appear at length, far off 2 7° 

The mountains looming up and belching smoke. 
Down go the sails. We spring upon our oars. 
No time is lost : the sailors, sharp at work, 



THE ^ENEID. 



Whirl up the spray and cut the azure deep. 

From shipwreck saved, the Strophades first take 2 7S 
Me to their shores — called Strophades in Greek — 
Isles in the great Ionian sea, where foul 
Celaeno and the other Harpies dwell, 
Since Phineus' house was shut them and they fled 
In terror from their late abode. Than they 28 ° 

There is no viler monster, nor doth pest 
Or visitation of the gods so fell 
Emerge above the current of the Styx — 
Birds with girls' faces, and a loathsome flux, 
Claw-hands, and e'er a hungry pallid look. 28 s 

Arriving here, we enter into port. 
Lo ! in the fields we see contented herds 
Of oxen feeding here and there, and flocks 
Of goats, no keeper near them, pasturing. 
We charge them with our spears, and call the gods, 2f >° 
E'en Jove himself, to share the booty ; then, 
Upon the circling beach we tables build, 
And feast on dainty meats. But frightfully 
And sudden from the mountains swooping down, 
The Harpies are at hand, and flap their wings 2 95 
With deafening roar. They snatch away the food 
And with their filthy touch foul every thing, 
While through the sickening stench their horrid shrieks 
Arise. Once more, within a deep recess, 
Beneath a hollow rock, shut all about 300 

With trees and thickest shade, we spread the board, 
And at the altars light the fires anew.. 
Once more from every quarter of the sky, 
From hidden dens, the clamoring crew clutch up 
6 



82 THE ^ENEID. 



The prey with crooked claws, and with their mouths 3°5 
Besmear the food. Then did I bid the men 
Take arms, and battle with this hideous race. 
They do as bid, and hide their swords from sight 
Within the grass, and lay away their shields \ 
So when again we hear them flapping down, 3«> 

The trumpeter Misenus from his post 
Gives signal, and the men attack, and wage 
A fight they never waged before, to slay 
With sword these loathsome ocean-birds : yet they 
Receive no blow upon their wings, nor w^ounds 315 
Upon their flesh. Gliding in rapid flight 
Up toward the stars, they leave behind the food 
Half-eaten, and the traces of their filth. 
Only Celaeno, prophetess of woe, 

• Sits high a rock, and from her throat croaks this : 320 
"Wage ye war too, sons of Laomedon, 
Who first our oxen kill, our cattle maim, 
Then drive us, harmless Harpies, from our homes ? 
Hear, then, and take to heart these words of mine. 
I, greatest of the furies, tell to you 325 

What the Omnipotent to Phoebus told, 
And Phoebus unto me. To Italy 
Ye shape your course. To Italy indeed, 
The winds so bidden, shall ye go, and ride 
Into its ports. But ye shall not surround 330 

Your destined city with its walls, until 
Starvation grim, vengeance for this assault 
Ye make on us, shall force you e'en to eat 
The trenchers that your teeth shall gnaw." So spake. 
Then soared aloft and flew into the wood. 335 



THE iENEID. 



83 



As for the men, their very blood ran cold 

With sudden fear. Their spirits drooped ; nor more 

With arms, but now with prayers and vows, for peace 

They bade me beg, let these be goddesses 

Or only hideous and loathsome birds. 34 ° 

Father Anchises, stretching from the shore 
His hands, invokes the great divinities, 
And orders fitting sacrifices. "Gods," 
He cries, "forbid these threats ! Avert such fate, 
And in your favor keep your worshippers ! " 345 

Then bids he tear the cable from the beach, 
Let out and loose the sheets. 

The south wind strains 
The sail. Over the sparkling tide we go, 
Where'er the helmsman and the breezes guide. 
Midway our course appear Zacynthus' groves, 350 

Dulichium, Samos, and the towering cliffs 
Of Neritos. We shun Laertes' realm, 
The rocks of Ithaca, and curse the land 
Of grim Ulysses' birth. Soon open up 
Leucate's cloudy top and, sailors' dread, 355 

The temple of Apollo. Weary, we 
Make shore, and shelter 'neath the little town ; 
The kedge goes o'er the bow : the sterns are beached. 

Thus unexpectedly at length we land, 
Atone to Jove, and make burnt offerings. 360 

With Trojan games we celebrate the shores 
Of Actium. Stripped to the skin, and slick 
With oil, the men indulge their native sports, 
Glad to have shunned so many Grecian towns 
And made their flight straight through the midst of 
foes. 365 



84 THE ^NEID. 



Meantime the sun rolls round the whole long year, 
And icy winter roughs the sea with storms. 
A shield of hollow brass — great Abas wore 
It once — I nail o'er-front the temple gate, 
And write this legend of its meaning there : 370 

From victor Greeks ^Eneas won these arms. 
Then do I bid the men depart the port, 
And seat them on the thwarts. In rivalry 
They lash the sea and sweep across the tide. 
Anon fade Corfu's airy pinnacles. 375 

We coast Epirus' shore, make Chaon's port, 
And reach Buthrotum's lofty citadel. 
There an incredible report we hear ; 
That Helenus, a son of Priam, reigns 
Throughout these Grecian towns ; that Pyrrhus' wife 3 8 ° 
And crown are his — Pyrrhus, Achilles' son; 
And that again Andromache is wed 
Unto a husband of her race. Amazed 
I stand, my heart aglow with hot desire 
To speak the man and probe so strange a tale. 385 
Up from the port I go, leaving the fleet 
And strand. Within a grove outside the town, 
By an adopted Simois' stream, it chanced 
Just then Andromache to Hector's dust 
Paid solemn banquet-rites and marks of grief, 390 

And called his ghost at what was feigned his tomb, 
Which, with its double altar, she, though naught 
The green sod hid, had hallowed unto him 
And made the very fountain of her tears. 
Soon as she saw me coming, and beheld 395 

The blazon round her of the Trojan arms, 



THE .EXEID. 



8-5 



Bewildered and o'ercome at such a sight, 

Rigid she stood and steadfast gazed ; her limbs 

Grew cold ; fainting she scarce long afterwards 

Could speak : " Son of a goddess, dost thou come -* 00 

To me a living face, true messenger? 

Dost live ? Or, if sweet life hath fled, where is 

My Hector?" Thus she spake, and rained a flood 

Of tears, and filled the whole grove with her sobs, 

So violent, scarce could I aught respond 405 

Or, overwhelmed myself, open my mouth 

With now and then a word : " Indeed I live, 

And still live on through all vicissitudes. 

Doubt not ; thou see'st me still alive. But ah ! 

What lot is thine robbed of so great a lord ! 410 

What hath fate brought thee worthy thy desert ? 

Doth the Andromache of Hector stoop 

To Pyrrhus' wife ? " She hung her head, and spake 

In a low voice : " Oh ! happiest of all 

Was she, king Priam's daughter doomed to fall 4 J 5 

A victim at Achilles' grave, beneath 

Troy's stately walls ! Not hers to bear the lot 

That turned upon the casting of a die, 

Or, captive, touch a tyrant master's bed ; 

While I, my native land in flames, forth dragged 42u 

From sea to sea, bent to a drudge, have borne 

The contumely of Achilles' race, 

And his o'erbearing son ; who, when he sought 

Hermione, a Spartan wife, gave me 

A slave to Helenus, himself a slave. 425 

Orestes, wrought to fury with the love 

He passionately bore his stolen bride, 



S6 the ^eneid. 



And mad with the insanity of crime, 

Came on the tyrant off his guard, and slew 

Him at his native altars. Pyrrhus dead, 430 

The realm in part to Heleiius reverts, 

Who all this land hath named Chaonia 

From Trojan Chaon's name, and on the heights 

Hath built these Trojan towers and citadel. 

But what the wind or fate that guided thee ? 435 

What god hath brought thee haply to our shores ? 

How with the boy Ascanius ? Does he, 

The hope that Troy gave thee in charge, still live 

And drink the air ? Still doth the little one 

Miss his dead mother's care, or doth his sire 440 

^Eneas, doth his uncle Hector wake 

The old-time valor and the heroic soul ? " 

While thus, all. sobs and powerless tears, she spake, 
The hero Helenus, king Priam's son, 
Came from the town, a great train following. 445 

He knows his countrymen ; o'erjoyed, he leads 
Them to his house, yet weeps at every word. 
As I advance, I recognize ? tis Troy 
In miniature ; its citadel like Troy's ; 
The shallow current of a Xanthus there ; 450 

I kiss the threshold of a Scaean gate ; 
My Trojans greet a city of their own. 
The king receives them in his ample courts : 
Midway the hall they pour the flowing wine, 
Drink healths, their viands served on gilded plate. 4 ?5 

A day, and yet another day goes by. 
The breezes tempt the sails. The rising wind 
The canvas swells. Our prophet-host I speak. 



THE iENEID. 87 



And question thus: "Thou augur of the gods 

And son of Troy — who read'st Apollo's will, 46 ° 

The tripod and the laurel of the god, 

The stars, the language of the birds, -and all 

Signs of the rapid wing — kind auspices 

Have shown me all my course ; the deities 

All bid me go to Italy, and seek 465 

That land of rest. Harpy Celaeno. sang 

Alone a strange and horrid note of woe, 

Threatening fell vengeance and the loathsome ghoul 

Of famine. Tell me thou what peril first 

To shun ; what course to follow, so that I 470 

Such dire necessity may overcome." 

Then Helenus, a bullock duly slain, 
Implores the favor of the gods, unbinds 
The fillets from his holy head, and me, 
Awed by the ghostly gloom, leads hand in hand 475 
Into thy temple, Phoebus. There the priest, 
With tongue inspired from heaven, doth chant these 

words : 
" Son of a goddess, faith sees clear that thou 
Dost o'er the ocean go to better things. 
The King of gods so fate allots, and sets 480 

The order of events. That order stands ! 
Yet so thou safelier cross pacific seas 
And land in an Italian port, I will 
Of many prophecies a few unfold. 
For more the Fates forbid thee know, nor wills 485 
Juno that Helenus should utter more. 

" And first, an intricate long way sets far - 
From thee the Italy thou think'st so near, 



88 THE yENEID. 



Whose ports thou ignorantly hastest now 

To come to anchor in. The oar must bend 490 

'Gainst the Sicilian waves ; thy barks must face 

The briny Tuscan sea, the infernal lakes, 

And Circe's isle, ere in the promised land 

Thou canst thy city found. Mark thou my words ; 

Hold them deep founded in thy memory. 495 

" Beside a quiet river's flow, beneath 
The holm trees on the sl>ore, the time will come 
When thou, a care-worn wanderer, shalt find, 
At rest upon the ground, a huge white sow 
Reclining with a litter, newly born, 500 

Of thirty white pigs at her teats. That place 
Shall be thy city's site, the sure surcease 
Of all thy toils. Nor shudder at the thought 
That thou shalt gnaw the trencher. Fate will find 
A way, and Phcebus answer to thy prayer. 505 

This land, this trend of the Italian coast, 
Depart : the hostile Greeks inhabit all 
Its towns. The Locrians here have made their homes. 
Cretan Idomeneus holds under arms 
The Sallentinian plains. Here too is snug s jo 

Petilia, defended by the wall 
Of Philoctetes, Melibcea's king. 
But when thy fleet from o'er the sea shall come 
To port at last, and thou thy vows dost pay 
At altars raised upon the shore, veil then 5»s 

Thy locks with purple, lest some hostile face, 
Appearing mid the sacred fires that burn 
In honor of the gods, the omens mar. 
Keep thou thyself this sacred custom ; let 



THE ^ENEID. 



89 



Thy followers keep it, and posterity 520 

Remain e'er faithful to this pious rite. 

Soon as the wind shall bring thee, sailing hence, 

To the Sicilian shores, and full in view 

Open Messina^s narrow straits, sheer off 

To port and, long though be the circuit, take 525 

The water on thy left. Upon the right 

Beware the sea and shore. Of old, they say, 

These straits were violently rent apart, 

By some vast shock convulsed, — such is the change 

Wrought by the weary lapse of centuries. 530 

Where once both lands were one, the mighty sea 

Poured in between, and with its deluge tore 

The Italian side from Sicily, and flows 

A narrow channel now 'twixt fields and towns 

Disparted by its banks. Scylla besets 535 

The right ; Charybdis, merciless, the left. 

Thrice to the bottom of her maw she sucks 

Straight down the giant waves, then belches them 

In turn again into the air, and flings 

Their spray across the stars. 'But Scylla lurks 540 

Prisoned within the cavern of the rock, 

Stretching her jaws to drag the mariner 

Upon the reefs, — her face a human face, 

A virgin to her groin with shapely breasts, 

But, after that, a monster of the sea 545 

Of size immense, with tails of dolphins joined 

To belly of the wolf. Better delay, 

And turn Pachynus, Sicily's extreme ; 

Better sail round, however long the voyage, 

Than once the hideous shape of Scylla see 550 



9 o THE yENEID. 



In that deep-yawning cavern, where the rocks 

Re-echo to her murky sea-dogs' howl ! , 

Besides, if Helenus hath any sense, 

If thou hast faith in his prophetic power, 

Or if Apollo fills his mind with truth, 555 

One thing I tell thee, goddess' son, one thing 

Before all else, and still the warning urge, 

Again and yet again repeating it : — 

With prayers entreat thou first great Juno's grace ; 

To Juno pay thy vows with all thy soul ; s 6 ° 

O'ercome with suppliant gifts that mighty queen : 

Triumphant then, shalt thou leave Sicily 

And land upon the Italian shore at last ! 

Departing hence, when thou to Cumae com'st, 

Its holy lakes, Avernus' whispering woods, 565 

Thou the wild prophetess shalt see, who sings 

In rocky caves the mysteries of fate, 

And writes on leaves her oracles. Whate'er 

The rede the virgin writes upon the leaves, 

She numbers and in order ranges them, 570 

Then lays them in seclusion in the cave. 

Yet should, on turn of hinge, the light wind lift 

Or through the open door disorder them, 

Ne'er more cares she to catch them as they float 

Beneath the rocky arch, or set them back, 575 

Or re-unite them verse to' verse again. 

Fools go away and scorn the Sibyl's shrine, 

But count thou there no length of time a waste, 

However much thy comrades chide, or loud 

The voyage doth call thy canvas to the sea, 5S0 

Or fresh the breeze that on thy bidding waits. 



THE ^NEID. 9I 



Nay, seek the prophetess ; with prayers entreat 
That she herself the oracles make clear 
And freely unrestrain her lips and speak. 
The tribes of Italy, the wars to be, 5?s 

Each hardship, how to bear or shun it best, — 
All will she picture unto thee, and give, 
Conciliated thus, a happy voyage. 
Thus far my voice may warn thee. Go, farewell, 
And by thy deeds restore the might of Troy." 590 

'These friendly words the prophet speaks, then bids 
To load our barks with gifts, massive with gold 
Or carved in ivory, and stows aboard 
Much weight of silver ware, Dodona pots, 
Mail wrought in triple ply and hooked with gold, 595 
A helmet's glittering cone and waving plume, 
The armor once of Neoptolemus. 
My father, too, especial gifts he gives, 
And adds us horses, guides and oars, and then 
For every man provides a suit of arms. 6o ° 

Meantime Anchises bids the fleet hoist sail 
So naught delay the wind that rises fair. 
Him speaks Apollo's seer with deep respect : 
" Anchises, honored with proud Venus' bed, 
Loved of the gods, twice rescued from the sack 6o 5 
Of Troy, lo ! thine the land of Italy ; 
There wing thy flight. But farther o'er the sea 
Must thou go on. That Italy is far 
To which Apollo opens up the way. 
Farewell," he cries, "O happy in a son 6l ° 

That honors thee ! nor must my full heart more, 
Nor I with words delay the impatient wind." 



9 2 



THE ^NEID. 



Nor less Andromache, sad that we part 

To meet no more, brings robes enwrought with threads 

Of gold, and for Ascanius a scarf 6l 5 

Of Phrygian make, — worthy the honor he. 

She loads him down with presents from her loom, 

And speaks him thus : " Take also these, my boy, 

My handiwork : and let them testify 

How lasting is the love of Hector's wife 62 ° 

Andromache. Take them, last souvenirs 

Of these thy friends. O thou sole image left 

Of my Astyanax ! 'twas so he raised 

His eyes, his hands, his lips. By this would he, 

His years the same, be ripening .like thyself." 62 5 

I speak, tears bursting as I turn to go : 
" Sweet be your lives, whose destiny is reached ! 
From toil to toil our fortune calls ; your rest is sure. 
No weary stretch of sea for you to plough! 
Not yours to seek the still receding fields 6 3° 

Of Italy ! Here ye the likeness see, 
Your own hands' work, of Xanthus and of Troy, — 
Fairer their hopes, I trust, and ne'er to cross 
The malice of the Greeks. If once I reach 
The Tiber and the lands that border it, 6 35 

And see my people's destined walls arise, 
Hereafter will we make our cities kin, 
Our nations neighbors, in Epirus ye, 
And we in Italy, with Dardanus 

Our common founder, ours a common fate, 6 *° 

Our hearts still Trojan each and both. Let this 
Forever be the charge our sons shall keep." 

On o'er the waves close by Ceraunia 



THE .EXEID. 93 



oere'er 

id ; the dusky mountains gloom ; 
Beside the ~ 

; :>m of the grateful earth. 
th his oar, upon the dry sea sand 

are and there, while sleep 6 s° 
ry limbs. Yet scarce the night, 
be hours, mid-heaven doth climb, when up 
Spring inurus from his bed, 

... and leans his ear to catch 
Its : He notes each star that trembles down 

The sile :he Two Be 

The rainy H; ikes a good look 

Iden sword. 
is calm, the sky sere:. 
-:ern a ringing bugle-: 66 ° 

imp, pull out to sea, and spread 
Our 

:rce tied the stars or blushed 
The -ien we beheld the hazy line 

Of . 
Ac' " the men 

r t Italy. With flowers 
3 wreathes a mighty cup, 

:anding high astern 
Ye gods, sc rer sea 

i : the wind blow to speed 
the ye kindly on our v 
::eful brr U nearer lifts 

The - temple loo:: 



94 THE ^ENEID. 



The sailors reef the sails, and turn the prows - 6 7S 

To shore. The harbor, curving like a bow 

To hold the tide inflowing from the east, 

The salt spray dashing 'gainst its rocky sides, 

Itself lies out of sight. The towering cliffs 

Send out their spurs like arms on either hand : 6So 

The temple seems receding from the shore. 

I note the earliest omen — in the fields 

Four horses pasturing at large, all white 

As snow. Father Anchises cries : " O land 

That greetest us, thou giv'st the greet of war ! 6S 5 

Equipped for war these steeds : this herd means war. 

And yet these horses have been wont to drag 

The car, and bear the un warlike rein and yoke : 

In that is hope of peace/' Then do we pray 

Minerva's sacred grace, who loves the clash 6 9° 

Of arms, whose temple is the first to greet 

Our glad approach. Before her shrines we veil 

Our heads with Phrygian scarfs. Remembering 

The cautions Helenus most urged, we burn 

To Argive Juno victims as he bade. 6 ?5 

No time to lose. Our vows discharged aright, 
Forthwith we square our yards about, and fly 
These haunts of Greeks, these fields we dare not trust. 

Next shows Tarentum's bay, where still is fresh 
The fame of Hercules. Just opposite, 700 

The goddess Juno's temple heaves in sight, 
And Caulon's peaks and Scylacaeum's coast, 
Which sailors dread. Out of the sea in front, 
The top of Etna looms in Sicily. 
We hear the sea's deep thunder, and the waves 705 



THE .EXEID. 9 - 



That beat against the rocks, the surf that breaks. 
And roars upon the shore. The shoals boil up : 
The sand is mingled with the surging tide. 
Father Anchises cries : " Too late ! Behold 
Charybdis ! These the rocks, the fearful reefs ? 10 
That Helenus foretold ! Quick, men, lay hold ! 
Spring to your oars and all together pull ! " 

Nor fail they at the bidding ; hard aport 
Quick Palinurus puts his shivering bow. 
The whole fleet strains to port with oar and sail. 715 
Upon the billows' top to heaven we toss, 
Then instantly, down with the tumbling waves, 
Into the very depths of hell we go. 
Thrice echo back the caverns of the rock, 
And thrice we see the foam clash up, the stars ~ 2 ° 

Bedewed. Meantime together with the sun 
The wind goes down and leaves us spent. We drift, 
Our reckoning lost, upon the Cyclops' coast. 

'Tis a deep port, unruffled by the winds, 
Though Etna rumbles near in thunder tones, ~ 2 5 

Belching aloft at intervals black clouds 
Of whirling pitchy smoke and cinder showers, 
And shooting balls of fire that lick the stars. 
It ructs convulsively and heaves up rocks, 
The wrenched volcano's bowels, while the air 730 

Glooms ever with the hissing molten hail, 
And from its very depths the mountain boils. 
The body of Enceladus, so goes 
The tale, half blasted by the thunderbolt, 
Lies 'neath the mass, and through the rifted flues 
Of Etna, piled above him, breathes up fire. 



9 6 



THE ^ENEID. 



Oft as he turns to rest his wearied side, 
All Sicily seems quaking with the shock, 
And the whole heaven is canopied with smoke. 
Through all that night, camped in the woods, its 
scenes 740 

Of terror we endure, nor can we see 
What 'tis creates the din. Shine not the stars, 
Nor glows the zenith with its starry mist. 
Clouds flit across the lowering sky ; the dead 
Of midnight darkness sepulchres the moon. 745 

And now the morrow breaks the East, and Dawn 
Unwraps the misty shadows from the sky, 
When on a sudden from the woods there runs, 
All worn to skin and bone, in wretched rags, 
An odd strange figure of a man, his hands 750 

Beseechingly outstretching towards the shore. 
We stare at him, his abject filth, his beard 
Grown rank, his mantle pinned with thorns, but Greek 
All else, as erst he bore his country's arms 
When sent to battle Troy. But when he sees 755 

The "Trojan dress and Trojan arms, though yet 
Afar, in terror at the sight he halts 
And for a moment turns ; then headlong down, 
With tears and prayers, he rushes to the shore : 
" By all the stars, by all the gods, by this 7 6 ° 

Bright breath of heaven I beg ! oh, rescue me, 
Ye men of Troy ! bear me where'er ye will ! 
'Tis all I ask. I know that I am one 
That manned the Grecian fleet, nay, I confess. 
Waged war against the guardian gods of Troy. ? 6i > 
For this, if ye esteem my crime so great, 



THE iENEID. gy 



Then toss me to the waves, and let me drown 

In the deep sea. If die I must, I long 

To die by human hands." He spake, and clasped 

My knees and, writhing, still kept clinging close. 770 

We bid him tell us who he is, what blood 

He sprang from, and confess what fortune 'tis 

That drove him there. Father Anchises, too, 

Unhesitating gives the man his hand, 

And calms his fears with this prompt courtesy. 775 

And he, his terror off at last, speaks thus : 

"My native land is Ithaca; my name 
Is Achemenides. I came to Troy, 
By my poor father Adamastus sent — 
Would that our lot had never changed ! — beneath 780 
The standard of ill-starred Ulysses. Here, 
Within the Cyclops' cavern vast, my mates 
Forgot and left me, while in terror they 
Its savage portal fled. The cave is huge, 
Reeking with gore and shreds of bloody flesh, 785 

And full of gloom within. The Cyclops towers 
So tall he hits the stars — Ye gods avert 
From earth so fell a pest! — and none dare speak 
Or look on him. He feeds upon the flesh 
Of wretched victims and their curdling blood. 790 

I saw him, stretched midway his cavern, break 
Upon a rock bodies of two of ours, 
Whom he had caught in his huge hand, the floor 
Bedaubed and swimming in their blood. Their limbs, 
Spurting with crimson gore, I saw him grind/ 79s 

The flesh yet warm and buivering in his teeth. 
Not unavenged ! Ulysses bore it not, 

7 



9 S THE ^ENEID. 



Nor in so great a strait forgot his craft. 

For when the giant, stuffed with food, and dead 

With wine, lay back his nodding head and stretched 8o ° 

Along the cave his monstrous frame and slept, 

And blood and morsels soaked in blood and wine 

Did drool, the favor of the gods we prayed, 

Assigned our posts, engirt him all at once, 

And with a spear-point bored the monstrous eye, 8o 5 

That by itself, big as a Grecian shield 

Or Phcebus' orb, hid 'neath his shaggy brow, — 

Glad to avenge our comrades' death at last. 

But fly, ye wretches, fly, and quick tear up 

Your cable from the shore ; for such and great 8l ° 

As is this Polyphemus with his flocks 

In caverns kept to give him wool, his herds 

To milk, a hundred monster Cyclops more 

Dwell scattered o'er these sea-worn shores, and stray 

Upon the mountain tops. Now doth the moon 8l 5 

The third time fill her horn with light, while I 

Drag out my life amid the woods in dens 

And the abandoned haunts of savage beasts, 

Watching the Cyclops from the tops of rocks, 

Trembling at every sound of voice or foot. , 82 ° 

I glean from shrubs berries and cornel stones, — 

Scant fare — and feed on brakes whose roots I pull. 

Forever on the watch, soon as I saw 

Your fleet approach the shore, I made for it, 

Content, whence'er it came, whome'er it brought. 82 5 

So I escape so horrible a race. 

Better ye put my life to any death ! " 

Scarce did he speak, when on the heights we saw 



THE <ENEID. qq 



The shepherd Polyphemus' mighty bulk 

There stalking mid his flocks, groping to find S3 ° 

Familiar land marks to the shore, a huge 

Terrific shapeless monster, with his eye 

Torn from its socket, while a pine-tree trunk 

Did guide his hand and make his footing sure. 

His woolly sheep about him flocked, sole joy 8 35 

He had or solace for his pain. When once 

He touched the deeper tide and stood well out 

At sea, he washed away with it the blood 

That flowed from his digged eye, gnashing his teeth 

And bellowing. Now through mid ocean walks, 8 -t° 

Nor yet the water strikes his towering sides. 

In terror we make haste to fly afar; 

We take the honest suppliant on board ; 

The cable noiselessly we cut, and bent 

Well forward, sweep the sea with eager oars. 8 -*5 

He hears, and turns his footsteps to the sound. 

But when he cannot reach us with his hand, 

Nor measure depth with the Ionian sea, 

He lifts a mighty roar that makes the deep 

And all its billows tremble, while the land 8 s° 

Of Italy is startled to its midst, 

And Etna's arching caverns echo back. 

Then from the woods and mountain heights aroused. 

The race of Cyclops rush upon the beach 

And. throng the shore. The Etnean brothers there s 55 

We see, one glaring eye 'neath each wild front, 

A terrible, grim group, but grouped in vain, 

Their tall heads reaching to the very clouds. 

With towering crests they stand, like oaks that top 



THE yENEID. 



The air, or the cone-bearing cypresses, 86 ° 

Jove's lofty forest or Diana's grove. 

The prick of terror spurs us quick let go 

The sheets and crowd all sail, content though blows 

Whatever wind may list And yet the charge 

Of Helenus gave warning not to steer 86 5 

'Twixt Scylla and Charybdis, — each alike 

A hair's breadth 'scape from death. I give command 

To 'go about, when lo ! the wind shifts north, 

As if the gods had sent it, blowing off 

Pelorus' point. We pass Pantagia's mouth 8 7° 

Of living rock, the bay of Megara, 

And lowly Thapsus. Achemenides l 

Ill-starred Ulysses' man, points out all these, 

The shore retracing where he journeyed late. 

Across the bay of Syracuse, straight off 8 75 

Plemmyrium's sea-beat shore, there lies an isle : 
The ancients called its name Ortygia. 
The story goes that the Alpheus here — 
A river that in Elis runs — hath wrought 
A secret channel 'neath the sea, and now 88 ° 

Through thy mouth, fount of Arethusa, blends 
With the Sicilian springs. Obedient, 
We pray the great gods of the place, then coast 
The fertile soil Helorus irrigates. 
Still on, we pass Pachynus' lofty cliffs 8S s 

And beetling crags. Far Camarina shows, 
Which fate forbade to drain, and Gela's fields, 
And outstretched Gela — for the river named. 
Then towering Agrigentum lifts aloft 
Her massive walls, once famed for thorough-breds. 8 9° 



THE ^ENEID. 



Fair through thy palms the winds, Selinus, blow \ 
I leave thee far behind, and skim the shoals 
Of Lilybeum, dire with lurking rocks. 
Anon I reach the port of Drepanum, — 
A shore forever hence with grief allied ! 895 

Alas ! beat by so many ocean storms, 
I lose my father, lose Anchises here, 
Who every care and toil had lightened. Ah ! 
Dear father, from so many dangers saved 
In vain, since thou did'st here abandon me ! 9°o 

Not this did Helenus the seer foretell, 
When he prepared me for so many risks, 
Nor e'en the fierce Celaeno. This the grief 
That goes beyond all else ! This the extent 
Of our long journeyings. Departing thence, 905 

The god hath driven me upon thy shores. 

Father JEneas thus, all else intent, 
Rehearsed the gods' decrees, his own career : 
Silent at last he rested at the close. 



B 



FOURTH BOOK. . 

UT not the queen : shot to the heart with love, 
The shaft that wounds her, with her veins she feeds, 
Consuming with the fire she would conceal. 
The hero's great nobility of soul, 
The many honors of his race, his look, 5 

His words hang quivering in her wounded breast, 
Nor will her love let slumber to her limbs. 

The morrow's sunlight streamed the earth, and Dawn 
Had swept the misty shadows from* the sky, 
When thus the unhappy queen her sister spake, 10 
Whose heart was one with hers : " What all these 

dreams, 
Anna, my sister, that still o'er my sleep 
In terror hang? Who is this stranger guest, 
That on our shores alights ? His face so brave, 
And he the soul of valor and of war ! *s 

I feel, nor false the instinct, his descent 
Is from the gods. The coward 'tis, that shows 
The base-born soul ! Ah me ! what risks he ran, 
What tugs of war he sang ! Were not my mind . 
Unalterably set, or would I e'er 2 ° 

Go 'neath the marriage yoke with any one 
Since death hath cheated me of my first love, 
Did I not shrink from bridal bed -and torch, 
To him, but only him, I might perhaps 
Be weak enough to yield. For, I confess, 2 5 



THE yENEID. 



103 



Since, Anna, my poor lord Sichaeus died, 

And our home gods were stained with'brother's blood, 

This man alone hath moved my soul and stirred 

My lulling heart. I feel the quickening 

Of passions that have slumbered long. But may 30 

The yawning earth envelop me, may now 

The Almighty King me with his thunder hurl 

Below the shades, the ghastly shades of hell 

And endless night, ere I am false to thee, 

O Constancy, or break thy bonds ! He who 35 

First made me one with him, took all my heart 

Away, and he shall keep it for his own, 

And guard it in the grave.'' So did she speak, 

And filled her bosom with outgushing tears. 

Anna replies : " O sister, dearer far 4° 

Than life, wilt thou forever waste thy youth, 
Heart-broken and alone ? Shalt thou not know 
Sweet babes nor love's caresses ? Think'st the dead, 
The spirit laid, the ashes buried, care £ 
What if they moved not thy reluctant heart, ' 4 ^ 

Who came erewhile to woo in Libya 
Or Tyre — Iarbas spurned, and other chiefs 
Of Afric's rich, triumphant soil ? Wilt thou 
With love in thine own heart contend? Or dost 
Forget whose lands thou borderest on, here hedged 50 
By the Gaetulian towns, a race in war 
Invincible, by the Numidians 
Who ride without a rein, by Syrtis' waste ; 
And there by regions desolate with drouth, 
And by the Barcans raiding everywhere ? 55 

Why need I speak of wars that lower from Tyre, 



I0 4 THE ^ENEID. 



Thy brother's threats ? Meseems indeed it were 

The blessing of the gods and Juno's grace 

That hither blew the Trojan fleet. With such 

A man thy lord, ah! sister, what a town 6o 

Were this ! What empire thence would spring ! how 

high 
The glory of the Punic realm would rise, 
Unto the arms of Troy allied ! Do thou 
But beg the favor of the gods, due rites 
Of adoration paid, and bid him bide ; 6 s 

Then link together causes of delay, 
Till Winter and Orion's tempests howl 
Above the sea and rock his boats, nor e'er 
Grows clear the sky." With words like these she fires 
A soul already longing, thrills with hope 7° 

The wavering heart, and breaks down all reserve. 
At once they seek the temple, where they make 
Their peace before the altar, and select 
And sacrifices make of full grown sheep 
To Ceres who established marriage laws, 75 

To Phcebus, Bacchus, but to Juno most 
Who doth delight to couple man and wife. 
Fair Dido holds in her right hand the bowl, 
And pours it 'twixt the fleecy victim's horns. 
And there she walks before the dripping shrines So 
And statues of the gods, exhausts the day 
In offerings and, eager bending while 
They open her the briskets of the sheep, 
Studies the quivering parts. Alas how poor 
The guess of conjurers ! What rite or shrine 8 5 

Love's fever calms ! Its subtle fire consumes 



THE ^NEID. 



IO S 



The marrow of her bones, and her torn heart 

Bleeds silently. Poor Dido frets, and strays 

Beside herself throughout the town. So hath, 

In Cretan groves, some sportsman, hot in chase, 90 

At random shot too venturesome a doe, 

And left the steel still quivering in the \vound, 

Not knowing that he hit : she takes to flight 

And roves the thickets and the woods of Crete, 

But to her side the fatal arrow clings. 95 

Now through the town, ^Eneas at her side,! 
She points him out what Tyre's resources are, 
And what the city she prepares to build ; 
Begins to speak, then stammers halfway through ; 
And now, at fall of day, longs to renew IO ° 

The pleasures of the yester-eve once more ; 
Is wild, and begs to hear a second time 
The Trojans' perils, while she hangs again 
Upon his lips, as he the story tells. 
Then when they part, and when the moon in turn io 5 
Grows dim and pales its light, and fainting stars 
To slumber soothe, alone she languishes 
Through the empty "hall, and falls upon the couch 
Where he did lie and, though apart, yet there 
She hears and sees him face to face. Again, TI ° 

Won by his likeness to his sire she hugs 
Ascanius, if haply she may cheat 
The frenzy of her love. The abandoned towers' 
No longer rise, no more the people drill 
In exercise of arms, or lay the base "S 

Of gates or fortresses to guard the town : 
At stand-still hang the works, the unfinished walls 



io6 THE ;ENEID. 



That threat to fall, the stagings high in air. 

The moment Juno, Jove's beloved wife, 
Sees the queen forced to such a passion pitch, I2 ° 
Blind to the peril of her own fair name, 
She makes at Venus thus : " Thou and thy brat 
Will truly reap rare praise, a noble spoil, 
A high and honorable name, if fall 
Into the snare of two great gods but one I2 5 

Poor woman. But I scent a deeper plot; 
Thou fear'st our city's growth, and hold'st in dread 
The commonwealth of stately Carthage. Nay, 
Why not some truce to this ? or wherefore now 
Such rivalries ? What better than to make f 3° 

Eternal peace, and wed them in a league ? 
Thou hast thy wish : Dido is mad with love 
And sucks its poison to her very bones. 
Lead we with common zeal one common race ! 
So let her wed her to a Trojan lord, J 35 

Her Tyrian dowry to thy hand commit ! " 

But Venus saw the craft beneath the word, 
That would divert to Libya the realm 
That was to be in Italy, and thus 
Thrust back : "What folly to deny such truth? ^° 
Or who could wish to cross the sword with thee? 
I would that fortune brought the thing you plan ; 
But I am puzzled how to take the fates — 
Whether Jove wills one town to them from Tyre, 
To them from Troy another, or prefers hs 

To mix the races and confederate them. 
His wife, thou need'st but ask to learn his will. 
Do thou lead on, and I will follow thee ! " 



THE .^NEID. 107 



Then royal Juno spake : "Be that my task. 

And now in few words hear how what we want l $° 

May come about. Soon as to-morrow's sun 

Uplifts its earliest beam, and with its rays 

Unwraps the shadowed world, ./Eneas means, 

Infatuated Dido at his side, 

To go a-hunting in the woods. On them, '55 

When hot the chase, the thickets full of snares, 

I '11 send a tempest, black as night with rain 

And hail, and wake all heaven with thunder-roar. 

The band will scatter, buried in the gloom 

Of night. But Dido and the Trojan chief l6 ° 

To the same cave alike shall find their way. 

I will be there and, if thou pledgest me 

Thy sure assent, will tie the marriage knot 

Secure and make her his. And that shall be 

Their wedding fete." With no dissenting word, 

Venus but nodded back to her request, 

And smiled to think that all her wiles were bare. 

Meantime the blushing Dawn leaves Ocean's bed. 
Sally from out the gates, as soon as light, 
The chosen band with fine spun nets and snares I 7° 
And broad-blade hunting spears. Come thronging forth 
The« Libyan huntsmen and the sharp-scent hounds. 
About her door the Carthaginian chiefs 
Await the queen, who at her toilet stays. 
Her steed stands bright with purple and with gold, f 75 
And champs impatiently the frothing bit. 
At length she comes, a great train following her, 
Clad in a Tyrian frock with broidered edge, 
A golden quiver at her back, her hair 



io 8 THE iENEID. 



Knotted with gold, and at the waist her robe lSo 

Of purple fastened with a golden clasp. 

Little lulus and the Trojan guests 

Advance with her. But, comeliest of all, 

^Eneas hastens to her side and joins 

His friends with hers. So doth Apollo step l8 5 

On Cynthus' top, and bind his clustering hair 

With wreaths of tender leaves, and knot it up 

With gold, his quiver rattling at his back, 

When he leaves Lycia and Xanthus' stream 

In winter time, and home to Delos comes — J 9° 

His mother's isle where he the choral dance 

Renews, while, flocking round his altars, rings 

The loud acclaim of Cretans, Dryopes, 

And painted Agathyrsi. Lithe as he, 

^Eneas moves along, so fine the grace J 95 

That lights the noble bearing of the man ! 

Soon as the mountain ridge and pathless wood 
They reach, lo ! leaping from the tops of rocks, 
The wild goats run along the cliffs. Elsewhere, 
A crowding dusty mass, leap herds of deer 2 °° 

Across the open wolds and leave the hills. 
Straight through the runs the boy Ascanius, 
Elated with his mettled steed, outstrips # 

Now these now those, and wishes prayers could bring 
A frothing boar instead of timid does, 2 °5 

Or tawny lion down the heights would rush ! 

Meantime the loud-disturbing roar of heaven 
Begins : a storm of rain and hail comes on. 
The Trojan leaders and their Tyrian friends 
And Venus' Trojan grandson all disperse 2I ° 



THE iENEID. [09 



In terror, seeking shelter everywhere 

Throughout the woods. ' Down from the mountains gush 

The streams. But Dido and the Trojan chief 

Seek the same cave. Primeval goddess Earth 

And Juno, goddess of the wooing, give 2I 5 

The signal. Lightnings flash, the very air 

Glows conscious with this wedlock, and the nymphs 

Flit shrieking on the mountain top. That day 

The seed of death and woes to come was sown. 

It matters not to Dido what is said, 22 ° 

Or what the look, for now no more she thinks 

Of blushing for her love, but says his wife 

She is, and hides her slip beneath that name. 

Quick, Rumor runs through Libya's crowded 
towns; — 
Rumor that hath no rival curse for speed, 22 5 

Moves but to grow, and going gathers strength. 
Creeping at first with fear, anon she rears 
Herself - aloft, and walks the ground, and thrusts 
Her head amid the clouds. Her mother Earth, 
To spite the vengeful gods, gave birth to her 2 3° 

The youngest sister, so the story goes, 
Of Caeus and Enceladus, — if swift 
Of foot, yet swifter with malicious wings. 
A monster huge and shapeless she, with eyes 
That lurk but never close, as many eyes 23 $ 

As feathers on her trunk, — as many tongues, 
As many noisy mouths, as many ears 
Pricked up to hear. , She sweeps at night half way 
'Twixt heaven and earth, and buzzes as she goes, 
Nor e'er in gentle slumber shuts her lids. 2 *° 



no 



P 



THE /ENKID. 




By day she sits at watch on/peak of roof 

Or turret-top, and o'er great cities-full 

In terror reigns, as stiff to* spread a lie 

Or slander as to tell the. truth.*r^¥was she 

That nQ^'wa^.^cy^^^^^^ebple's ears, 2 ^s 

With fiendisli^j^^^mousand tales, nor cared 

."-hetlTer 'twere true or false she spread abroad, — 
That there had thither come ^Eneas, born 
Of Trojan stock; that the fair Dido now 
Demeaned herself in marriage to this man ; 2 5° 

And that together they in dalliance 
The whole long winter reveled, heedless both 
Of duty to the state, and bpth enerved 
With lust of baser things. This, everywhere, 
The^26ul-tongued goddess filtered through men's 
mouths. 2 55 

To king Iarbas soon she bent her way, 
With words inflamed his heart and fired his rage. 

Son of nymph Garamantis — outraged she 
By Hammon — he within his broad domains 
Had reared to Jupiter a hundred shrines, 2(3 ° 

A hundred stately temples, and in each 
Made consecrate an ever burning fire — 
The eternal watch-fire of the gods — the ground 
Thick soaked with blood of sheep, the gate-ways 

decked 
With wreaths of many flowers. Hot headed he 26 5 
And by the galling rumor stung, before 
The altars, mid the statues of the gods, 
A suppliant with uplifted hands, 'tis said, 
Thus plied he hard with Jove : "Almighty Jove, 



W <K 






•*ffi"" p 



THE iENEID. 



! 

To whdirKthe Moorish race on- gaudy couch 2 "° 

At feast pour out t%£> honors of the, wine, 
Dost look on this ? 6r%$p£'we fools to cringe 
When, Father, thou- ^st" whirl the thunderbolt? 
Is it but mock cf fire thaWhakes our souls 
And blends the lightnings' harmless murmurings ? 2 ?5 
Here hath a woman, wandering on our shores, — 
Who for a pittance buys a paltry town, 
To 'whom we give a strip of shore to plough 
And o'er its borders jurisdiction, — scorned 
The offer of our hand, and taken up 28 ° 

^Eneas for the master of her realm! 
And now" this little Paris, with a tail 
Of weaklings at his heels, a Phrygian cap 
Tied 'neath his chin and down his scented hair, 
Toys with the prize we lost. Meantime our gifts 28 5 
We to thy temples bring, and boast the faith 
That vainly links our origin to thee." 
As thus Iarbas to the altars clung 
And begged, him the Almighty heard. He turned 
His gaze upon the city of the queen, 2 9° 

The lovers lost to nicer sense of shame. 
Then thus to Mercury he spake, and gave 
Him this command : " Up, forth, my son, 
The Zephyrs call, and wing to earth thy flight ! 
Bespeak the Trojan chief who lags so long 2 95 

In Tyrian Carthage, and remembers not>- 
What city 'tis the fates have given him. 
Bear him my bidding swiftly through the air. 
Not such did his most lovely mother paint 
Him me, and so twice save him from the Greeks 300 



112 



THE ^ENEID. 









In battle, but as one whose leadership 
Should bring imperial might and war-renown 
To Italy, and who his lineage 
From Teucer's noble blood would prove, and bring 
The whole world to his hest. But if he feel 305 

No prick to such a glorious destiny, 
Nor rates his fame above the toil it costs, 
Doth yet the father of Ascanius 
Envy his son the palaces of Rome ? 
What means the man ? Or what the stake that 
keeps • 310 

Him lingering with his country's foes? Doth he 
Forget the race he owes to Italy, 
The fields that wait him in Lavinium ? 
Let him to sea : this warning is our last. 
Of this our will be thou the messenger." 315 

No sooner said, than Mercury sets out, 
His mighty Sire's behest to do. And first, 
A pair of golden sandals on his feet 
He binds, which on their wings lift him aloft, 
And bear him swift as light o'er sea and land. 320 

He snatches next the rod with which from hell 
He becks pale ghosts or sends them to its curse. 
With this he gives or robs of sleep, and shuts 
The eyes that faint in death. ' Empowered by this, 
He cleaves the winds and swims the billowing clouds. 3 2 5 
Already on his flight he comes in view 
Of rugged Atlas' top and towering cliffs, 
Whose summit props the sky, and round whose head, 
Frowsy with pines, forever frown the clouds, 
And beat the wind and rain. His shoulders lie 330 



THE ^NEID. n 3 



Beneath the mantle of the snow, while down 

The old man of the mountain's chin gush streams, 

And stiffens with the ice his shaggy beard. 

Here, poised on even wings, lights Mercury, 

Then headlong towards the waves with all his 

weight 335 

He casts him like a bird, that round about 
The shores and rocks that swarm with fish, flies low 
Along the beach. Thus swooping from the abode 
Of his maternal grandsire, Mercury 
Along the coast of Libya skims, and cuts 340 

The winds, with -heaven above and earth below. 

His flying feet but touch the cottages, 
Ere he beholds ./Eneas building towers 
And renovating walls, upon his thigh 
A sword with yellow jasper set, — a cloak 345 

Down hanging from his shoulders, all ablaze 
With Tyrian purple. Gifts to him were these 
That Dido lavishly had made, the warp 
Enwrought with threads of gold. Quick Mercury 
Attacks him : " Is it thou that layest thus 350 

The walls of haughty Carthage and dost build, 
To keep thy mistress' favor, this fair town ? 
Alas ! that thou forget'st the sovereignty, 
The empire thou should'st found for thee and thine ! 
To thee the very God of gods himself, 355 

Who sways at will the heavens and the earth, 
Hath sent me down from bright Olympus' peak ! 
'Tis he hath bid me swiftly through the air 
His mandates fetch. What dost thou here ? or what 
The stake that keeps thee dallying on the sands i 6 ° 
8 




114 



\ THE ^NEID. 



Of Libya ? feut if thou feel'st no prick 

To thy gtfSat destiny, nor ratest fame 

Above the toil it costs, at least regard 

Ascanius' budding hopes, the heritage 

Tmat waits lulus, unto whom are due 365 

The realm of Italy and soil of Rome." 

So Mercury spake, and fled from mortal sight 

While yet he spake, and from the eyes of men 

In thin air faded, and was gone afar. 

Ah ! then iEneas at the sight was dazed 370 

And dumb. His hair with horror stood on end, 
His voice stuck in his throat. Stunned at such hest 
And warning from the gods, Ae burns to fly 
And quit that .land of sweets. Alas for him ! 
What can he do ? with what excuse now dare 375 

To cheat the queen whose love to madness grows ? 
What step the first to take ? Now here, now there, 
He swiftly turns his thoughts, at every hint 
He grasps, and thinks of everything at once. 
In doubt, this seems to him the better plan : 380 

Mnestheus, Sergestus and Cloanthus brave 
He bids fit out the fleet in secrecy, 
Gather the men on shore, make ready arms, 
And lie if asked the purpose of the move. 
Meantime, in her unbounded giving up 3S5 

While Dido naught suspects, and has no fear 
That love so sweet can be asunder torn, 
He makes it his to learn how he. the queen 
May best approach, — '■ when easiest wheedle her, — 
What course to take. Well pleased and quickly they 390 
His mandate heed, and do what he commands. 



THE iENEID. 



JI 5 



Yet, spite of all, the instinct of the queen 
Foreboded ill — for who love's vigilance 
Can cheat? — herself the first to read aright 
The purpose of the stir, at every breath 395 

Alarmed, though naught of danger breathed. The 

same 
Malicious Rumor feeds the fire afresh, 
And whispers her the fleet is fitting forth, 
Its course all mapped. Out of her mind, she raves 
Aflame the city through, — no Bacchant more 4°° 

Distraught at opening of the sacred rites, 
Or stirred at Bacchus' voice triennial-night, 
When with the orgies loud Cithseron rings, — 
Till last she seeks and pins ^Eneas thus : , 

" And hop'st thou, traitor, to conceal so base 405 
A shame, or from my borders sneak unseen ? 
Do not my love, the pledge of hand in hand, 
The thought of Dido dying wretchedly, 
Stay thee ? Nay, art so cruel as to launch 
Thy fleet while yet the star of winter rules, 410 

Or haste to sail amid these northern blasts ? 
What would'st? E'en sought'st thou not a foreign 

strand 
Xor homes in exile, and though ancient Troy 
Were standing yet, thou would'st not sail for Troy 
O'er such a stormy sea ! Would'st part from me ? 415 
Nay, since naught else is left to my despair, 
I beg thee by these tears, thy plighted hand, 
Our marriage bed, our wedlock just begun, 
If I have won thee aught, or my caress 
Hath seemed thee sweet, have pity on the fall 420 






116 THE-iENEID. 



Of me and mine, I beg, and if thy heart 

Hath nook where prayer can enter, do not go ! 

Because of thee, the tribes of Libya, 

The Nomad despots hate me ; e'en my own, 

My Tyrian people lower. My sense of shame, 425 

My fleckless name, with which if with naught else 

I was so near the glory of the stars, 

All have I lost — lost for thy sake alone. 

And to whose hands, O guest — if only thus 

And never husband I may call thee more — 430 

Dost thou abandon me, sick unto death ? 

What is there left for me, except to let 

Pygmalion my brother raze my walls, 

Or the Gaetulian sheik Iarbas lead 

Me captive home? Would that I might at least 435 

Have borne thee-babes, a little son whom I 

Could call ^Eneas, playing in my halls, 

And in his face read memories of thine ! 

Then should I seem not all bereft or lost." 

She spake. He, warned by Jove, moved not his eyes, 440 

But strove to hide the torture in his heart. 

At last he briefly speaks : " Never shall I 

Deny, O queen, that more than words can tell 

Thou hast deserved of me ; nor e'er will tire 

My heart remembering, Elisa, thee, 445 

So long as I remember self, or life 

Is in my veins. Let me a little say 

In point. Think not I hoped to make my flight 

By stealth. To marriage I have never made 

Pretence, nor come into its bonds. Had fate 450 

Permitted me to lead my life at will, 



THE .-EXEID. 



117 



Or shape my wishes as I would, I had 

Built up, foremost of all, the walls of Troy, 

The ruins of my own loved home ; and now 

The lofty towers of Priam would be up, 45s 

And I its citadel, by this right hand 

Rebuilt, should to my countrymen restore. 

But see ! Apollo at Grynaeum bids, 

As do his oracles at Lycia, 

That I must grasp at mighty Italy ! 460 

That is my aim, and that my country is. 

If thee, a Tyrian, the citadels 

Of Carthage and this Libyan city's site 

Detain, what blame is there because at last 

.The Trojans settle on Italian soil ? * 6 5 

Our duty 'tis to seek a distant realm. 

No night enfolds the earth at dewy eve, 

The stars ne'er rise and burn, but in my sleep 

My sire Anchises' anxious ghost doth warn 

And torture me, as doth the duty due v° 

My boy Ascanius, with the wrong I lay 

On his beloved head, whom I xlefraud 

Of his Italian realm and of the lands 

Allotted him by fate. It was but now 

The angel of the gods, sent down by Jove 475 

Himself — I swear by either deity — 

Swift through the air their bidding brought. Myself 

I saw the god in open day-light leap 

The walls, and heard him with these ears of mine. 

No more with thy repinings tease thyself 4S0 

Or me. I seek not Italy at will." 

While thus he speaks, she looks askance, her eyes 






nS THE ^ENEID. 



Roll wildly, and with silent scorn survey 

Him head to foot, till last her rage bursts forth : 

" Liar ! no goddess gave thee birth, nor e'er 485 

Was Dardanus the founder of thy race ! 

The cheerless rocks of savage Caucasus 

Begot, Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck ! 

For why should I dissemble more, or stay 

My anger but to cringe to deeper wrongs ? 490 

Hath he so much as sighed to see me weep ? 

Or bent one pitying look ? Or shed a tear 

Of tenderness for one who loved him so ? 

Yet why should I blame him beyond the rest ! 

No, no, nor Juno queen, nor Father Jove 495 

Now deigns one look of justice at these wrongs ! 

There is no true heart left in all the world ! 

A fool, I took this beggar, cast away 

Upon my shore, and shared with him my realm. 

I saved his shipwrecked mariners from death. s°° 

And now he tells me I am mad, and cants 

Of Phoebus' seer, and Lycian oracles, 

And then of angels of the gods, sent down 

By Jove himself to hurry through the air 

Their brutal bidding ! And is such, forsooth, 505 

The employment of the gods ? Is such the load 

Of their solicitude ? I keep thee not, 

Nor deign to prick thy sophistries. Go, go, 

Set sail for Italy ; search out a realm 

Beyond the sea ! Yet none the less I hope, 5"> 

If heaven's pure justice can be done, that thou 

Wilt suffer vengeance, wrecked amid the reefs, 

And ever call on Dido's name. Afar, 



THE 2ENEID. II9 



I yet will follow thee with fires of hate ; 
And when cold death shall suck my limbs of life, 5*5 
My ghost shall haunt thee everywhere. Thou, wretch, 
Shalt meet thy doom, and I shall hear 't : the tale 
Will come to me far down among the dead." 
Half-through, she stopped, turned swooning from the 

light, 
And fled to hide her from before his face, 520 

And left him hesitating what to say 
While yet he would have said so much. Her maids 
Uplift and to the marble chamber bear 
Her fainting limbs, and lay them on a couch. 

But reverent ^Eneas, much as he 525 

Desires to soothe her grief with tenderness, 
Or speak some word of hope, heart-broken he, 
His great love shattering his will, yet heeds 
The bidding of the gods, and to his fleet 
Goes back. Then lustily the Trojans work. 530 

All down the shore they drag their high-built craft ; 
Each tarry keel is launched. So fierce to go, 
From out the woods they gather boughs still thick 
With leaves, and rough with knots. There back and 

forth 
You saw them bustling, pouring from the town, 535 
Like ants that gather in great heaps of corn, 
And store it up for winter in their cells : 
Across the sand the black battalion go, 
And drag their spoil in narrow paths 'twixt blades 
Of grass: their shoulders at the load, some push 540 
Great grains ; some urge the column on, and lash 
- The drones ; the whole line glows with busy life. 






THE ^NEID. 









What torture, Dido, then, at such a sight 
Was thine ! What cry of grief broke from thy soul, 
To look from turret-top and see the shore 545 

As warm, and there before thine eyes the sea's 
Whole surface in confusion such as that ! 
Thou bitter gall of love, to what dost not 
Impel the human heart ? She cannot help 
But burst again in tears, try once again 550 

What prayers may do, and yield, a suppliant, 
Her resolution to her love, so she, 
If die she must in vain, leave naught untried. 

" Anna, thou see'st the stir all down the shore. 
From every hand they gather in. Their sails 555 

Now tempt the breeze, the happy sailors deck 
The sterns with garlands. Could I have foreseen 
This blow, my sister, I had borne it too. 
Yet, wretched as I am, grant me one boon ; 
For, traitor that he was, he deference gave 
To none but thee, told thee his secret thoughts, 
And only thou did'st know when best and how 
To reach the man. Haste, sister, speak and beg 
This merciless invader of my heart ; 
Tell him it was not I that took an oath 565 

At Aulis with the Greeks to exterminate 
The Trojan race, and fitted out a fleet 
'Gainst Pergamos. It was not I disturbed 
His sire Anchises' ashes and his ghost. 
Ask him why lets he riot my words to his 57 ° 

Relentless ears, and why he hastes him so ! 
This last grace let him grant the unhappy heart 
That loves him still ! Then may he have good voyage 



THE ^ENEID. 



And breezes fair ! The love of man and wife, 
That once was ours, and that he now betrays, 575 

I ask no more, nor e'en that he forego 
The Latium so dear to him, or waive 
The king he is to be. I only ask 
A little paltry time to rest me in, 
And stay this agony, till day by day " $ So 

- My bruised heart learn to bear its grief. I beg 
But this last favor; — oh, let pity plead 
Thy sister's cause ! — and but he grant me this, 
Then he may go, and I shall lay on him 
No other burden than that I am dead." 585 

So keeps she pleading, and her messages 
Of tears, in sorrow o'er and o'er again 
The sister bears. No tears move him : no prayers 
Doth he relent to hear. The Fates stand guard, 
And Jove hath locked the warrior's ears that ne'er 590 
Were deaf before. So, sweeping from the Alps, 
The whirlwinds of the north beat back and forth 
Some oak that hath the strength of centuries, 
And strain, each fiercer for the rest, to root 
It from the earth : loud roars the gale, and far 595 

And wide, down from the surging boughs, the leaves 
Are strewn upon the ground : the tree itself 
Clings to its rocky hold, and high in air 
As towers its top, so deep toward hell go down 
Its roots. So is the hero buffeted 6o ° 

At every turn, incessantly besought, 
His stout heart on the rack. But like a rock 
His purpose stands : tears deluge him in vain. 
Hopeless at last, in terror at her fate, 



THE ^ENEID. 



Dido but asks to die, and tires to look 6 °5 

Upon the canopy of heaven. As if 

To better work her wish and speed her death, 

While at the fragrant altars offering gifts, 

She notes the sacred liquors — fearful sight ! — 

Grow black, the wine-flow change to ominous blood. 6l ° 

To none, not e'en her sister, she reveals 

The omen. There was, too, within her courts 

A marble temple, which religiously 

She kept in honor of her former lord, 

With snow-white fleeces hung and sacred wreaths. 6l 5 

Thence, oft as night lay dark upon the earth, 

Came whispers, and her husband's voice that seemed 

To summon her. A solitary owl 

Hooted its weird complaint upon the roof, 

In mournful cadence long drawn out. Moreo'er, 62 ° 

The priests foreboded much, and tortured her 

With warnings terrible. E'er in her dreams 

y£neas, still relentless, drives her wild ; 

She seems to be forever left alone, 

To go alone a never-ending road, 62 5 

And grope for Tyre through trackless wilds. So 'tis, 

When crazy Pentheus swarms of furies sees, 

The sun show double, and a double Thebes : 

Or when, upon the stage, a madman, cowers 

Orestes, Agamemnon's son, before 6 3° 

His mother's crown of flame and hissing snakes, 

While vengeful demons squat where'er he turns ! 

And so it is that when she feels her doom 
Is sealed, o'erwhelmed with grief and bent on death, 
In secret she the time and method plans, 63 5 



THE ^ENEID. 123 



And works upon her grieving sister thus, 

Her face a traitor to the truth, her brow 

Serene with hope : " Dear sister, give me joy ! 

I know a way to bring him back to me, 

Or loose the love that fetters me to him. 6 -*° 

Near Ocean's outer bound, where sets the sun, — 

Remotest dwelling-place of Ethiop, 

Where mighty Atlas on his shoulder turns 

The axis of the glittering, starry sky, — 

Was pointed out to me a priestess once, 6 ^5 

Who kept the temple of the Hesperides, 

And served the dragon's food, and had in care 

The branches of the sacred tree, and flung 

Down honey-drops and drowsy poppy-seed. 

She claims with spells to set from passion free, 6 5° 

And lay its torturing cark on whom she will, 

To stay the rivers, or turn back the stars. 

At night she wakes the dead ; beneath her feet, 

You see the earth quake and the woods come down 

The mountain. By the gods I swear, by thee, 6 55 

Sweet sister mine, by thy dear head, it is 

Against my will I dare these magic arts ! 

But secretly do thou erect a pyre 

In open air, within the inner court, 

And on it pile the hero's sword, which he 66 ° 

Left hanging in my chamber, every rag 

The traitor vaunted, and the bridal bed 

On which I was undone. The priestess bade 

To blot out every relic of the wretch, 

And told me how." This said, she silent grew, 66 s 

And pallor fell upon her face the while. 



124 THE ^ NEID - 



Yet ne'er dreamed Anna that her sister made 
These strange rites but the cover of her death, 
Nor knew that woman's heart could suffer so, 
Nor feared aught worse than when Sichaeus died ; 6 7° 
And so she did the bidding of the queen. 
But Dido, when within the inner court 
In open air the mounting pyre is built 
Of rifted pine and oak, hangs garlands there 
And wreathes it with funereal leaves. On it 6 7S 

She lays whate'er he wore, the sword he left, 
And on a bed his effigy, for she 
Well knows what is to come. Altars surround 
The pyre. A priestess with dishevelled hair 
Thrice calls in thunder tones a hundred gods, 68 ° 
Calls Erebus and Chaos, and invokes 
The triple Hecate, the three in one 
Of the immaculate Diana. She 
Had showered feigned waters from Avernus' lake, 
And now was forth beneath the moon to cut 68 5 

With brazen knife a crop of herbs full grown 
And with black poison rank, or rip from out 
The forehead of a foal the love-lump ere 
Its dam could snatch it. Dido, all the while, 
Her frock unloosed, one foot unshod and bare, 6 9° 
Still at the altars spreads with reverent hands 
The salted meal, and bent. on death, implores 
The gods and stars, that long have read her fate, 
To vindicate her purpose. If there be 
One Power so just, so gracious as to care 6( ?5 

When love to love is false, to that she prays. 
'Twas night ; and weariness o'er all the earth 






THE ^NEID. 125 



In peaceful slumber sank to rest. No breath 

Was in the woods or on the fitful sea. 

It was the time when, half their circuit o'er, 7°° 

The stars began to fall ; when fields and flocks 

Lay still, and birds were nestling 'neath their wings 

Of many hues ; when all that lives within 

The water-depths, and all that in the fields 

And forest dwell, under the silent night ?°5 

In deep sleep lying, dreamed all care away, 

And human hearts forgot that life is toil. 

But not the aching heart of Dido. Ne'er 

In slumber resteth she, nor in her breast 

Nor on her eyes the blessing of the night. ? 10 

Her soul is dark ; her love springs fresh again, 

And wild with every gust of passion beats. 

So now she ponders and her heart o'erflows : 

" O gods, what is there left ? Shall I tempt back 

The bygone lovers that would mock me now ? 715 

Shall I among the Nomads on my knees 

A husband beg, when I so many times 

Have spurned their suit ? Or shall I rather chase 

The galleys of the Trojans, and howe'er 

Degrading be their terms, submit, because 720 

They take it kindly I once aided them, 

And a good memory feels gratitude 

For favors done ? Nay, who of them, were I 

To go, would give me place, or let me, whom 

They hate, step foot upon his haughty deck ? . 7 2 5 

Fool that I am who know not yet, nor see 

The treachery of this lying Trojan race ! 

What if I join their flight ; shall I expose 



i 2 6 THE yENEID. 



Myself to their insulting crews alone, — 

Or go accompanied with Tyrians, 730 

With all my people in my train, and thus 

Cast on the sea again and bid set sail 

Before the wind those whom I have but now 

Dragged from their Sidon homes ? Nay, let me die, 

As die I ought, and with the sword let out 735 

My grief ! Sister, 'twas thou that at the first, 

Surrendering to my tears, made folly worse 

With all this load of ills, and to the foe 

Made me an easy spoil. They would not let 

Me live a quiet, blameless widowhood 740 

From marriage free, unharassed by these woes : 

I broke the faith I pledged Sichseus' ghost." 

Such was the plaint came sobbing from her breast. 

^Eneas on his lofty deck, now sure 
To go, and every preparation made, 745 

Had thrown him down to sleep. Upon his dreams 
Broke in the figure of the god returned 
With face unchanged, like Mercury in all, 
In voice, in hue, the yellow hair, the grace 
Of youthful shape, and thus a second time 750 

His warning seemed to give : "Thou goddess' son, 
Canst sleep at such an hour as this ? See'st not 
The dangers that encompass thee ? Art mad, 
That hearest not the kindly zephyrs breathe ? 
She nurses mischief in her breast, and fierce 755 

Revenge, resolved to die, yet beat about 
By every gust of passion. Hasten hence 
Thy flight, while hasten it thou canst. If once 
The morn dawn on thee lingering at the shore, 



THE ^ENEID. 127 



Thou shalt behold the harbor swarm with rafts, 760 
The vengeful torches mass a sheet of flame. 
Up, up, away ! Break through thy sluggishness ! 
Always is woman fickleness and change/' 
So spake, then melted in the black of night. 

Then did indeed ^Eneas spring from sleep 765 

Affrighted at the sudden darkening, 
And woke his men. " Quick, wake, my men, and man 
The boats ! Set sail ! No time to lose ! A god, 
Sent down from upper air, hath bidden me 
A second time to speed my flight and cut 770 

Our cables. Holy angel of the gods, 
Whoe'er thou art, we gladly follow thee, 
And thy command again obey ! Be near, 
O god, and grant thy aid, and set in heaven 
Propitious stars ! " He spake, snatched from its" 
sheath 775 

His gleaming sword, and severed at a stroke 
The lines. His zeal at once inspires them all : 
They lift the kedge, they rush aboard : and now 
Not one is left upon the shore. The waves 
Glide underneath their keels. Bent to the oar, / 8o 
They toss the spray and cut the azure deep. 

No sooner from Tithonus' blushing bed 
Aurora sprang and dewed the earth with light 
When quick as e'er the queen beheld the dawn 
Grow pale, and from her tower the fleet well out 785 
To sea with all sail set — the shore, the port 
Stripped to the very oars — incessantly 
She beat her lovely breast, her yellow hair 
She tore. " O Jove, shall this adventurer 



128 



THE iENEID. 



Go hence," she cried, "and make our realm his sport ??9<> 
Will not my people arm and follow him 
From all the town ? Why launch they not my boats ? 
Go, go, quick spread the flames ! make sail, pull, pull 
The oars ! — Why do I call ? or where am I ? 
What madness is't that sets my mind awhirl ! 795 

Thou poor wretch Dido, thy misdeeds recoil 
Upon thee now ! Then was the time to give 
Command when thou did'st hold him in thy power. 
Lo ! this the honor, this the faith of him 
Who with him takes, they boast, his country's gods, 8o ° 
And on his shoulders bore his aged sire ! 
Had I not power to tear him limb from limb, 
To fling him in the sea, to put to sword 
His men, nay e'en his son Ascanius 
Serve for a banquet at his father's board ! 8 °s 

What though the fortune of the fight had hung 
In doubt ? What, though it had, had I to fear, 
Who was resolved to die ? I might have put 
His camp to torch, his hatches stuffed with flames, 
Burnt up the sire, the son, and the whole tribe, 8l ° 
And on their bodies sacrificed myself. 
O Sun, whose pathway streams with light o'er all 
The works of earth ; thou, Juno, messenger 
And witness of my griefs ; thou Hecate, 
Howled nightly through the town where three ways 
meet; 8i 5 

Ye venging Furies, and ye gods who look 
Upon Elisa's death, take heed, redress 
My wrongs as they deserve, and hear my prayers ! 
If it be fate that this accursed wretch 



THE iENEID. 129 



Make port or come to shore, and so the will 82 ° 

Of Jove decrees, and that must be the end, 

Yet vexed by war and a brave people's arms, 

Expelled his borders, torn from the embrace 

Of his lulus, may he beg for help, 

And look on the dishonored death of friends : 82 5 

Nor, when he yields to grinding terms of peace, 

Let him enjoy his realm or length of life, 

But let him die before his time, and rot 

Unburied on the sands. For this I pray ; 

This my last wish with my heart's blood I pour. 8 3° 

And ye, my Tyrians, his race pursue 

And all his generations hence with hate ! 

Be this the rite ye pay my memory ; 

Between our peoples let there be nor peace 

Nor league ! Let the avenger from my dust 8 35 

Go forth and scathe these Trojan vagabonds 

With fire and sword ! Now and henceforth, and long 

As heart hath strength to beat, be it my curse 

That shore to shore, and wave to wave, and arm 

To arm be deadly foe ; and that the two 8 4° 

And their descendants wage eternal war ! " 

Thus saying, every wit she sets at work 
How quickest she may end her hated life, 
And briefly Barce bids, Sichaeus' nurse : 
(Her own lay buried in her native land.) s -»s 

" My good nurse, get me sister Anna here ; 
Bid her with running water sprinkle her, 
And sheep and sacrifices with her bring : 
So let her come. About my temples wreathe 
Thyself the sacred fillet, for I go 8 5° 

9 



I3 o THE .ENEID. 



To offer unto Stygian Jove the gifts 

I duly have prepared, so I may end 

Our woes, and burn the Trojan's effigy." 

So spake. At an old woman's hobble hastes 

The nurse. But Dido, frightened at her own 8 ss 

Unholy work, restless her blood-shot eyes, 

The tender, trembling lids bedewed with tears, 

Ghastly her face at the approach of death, 

Bursts through the inner doors, in frenzy mounts 

The summit of the pyre, and draws the sword — 86 ° 

A gift ne'er meant for such a use. And when 

She sees the Trojan dress, the well known bed, 

Tears and the awakening of memory 

Stay her a little ; then she throws herself 

Upon the couch, and these her last sad words : 86 5 

" Ye relics, sweet while Jove and fate were kind, 

Receive my soul and solve me from my pain ! 

My life is o'er, and I have run my course 

As fortune led the way ; my spirit free 

Now to the country of the dead shall go. s /° 

A noble city have I built, and walls 

Beheld that are my own. I have avenged 

My husband's wrongs, and wreaked the penalty 

Upon a brother who did murder him. 

Happy, alas ! too happy, had but ne'er 8 75 

A Trojan keel grated on Libya's shore." 

She spake and kissed and kissed the couch, and cried : 



Shall I die unavenged ? Nay, let me die 



Thus, thus I glory as I go to death. 

Oh ! may the cruel Trojan's eyes drink in, 88 ° 

Far out at sea, the blazing of this fire, 



THE ^ENEID. 



I 3 I 



And with him bear the omens of my death ! " 

While yet she speaks, her women see her fall 

Upon the sword, and blood spirt up the blade, 

Bespattering her hands. Echo their shrieks 88 5 

Outside the palace walls. The story speeds, 

And sets the town acraze • rings every house 

With lamentations, groans, and women's cries \ 

And the loud wailing stuns the very air, 

As though the foe had come, and ancient Tyre 8 9° 

Or Carthage perished root and branch, while flames 

Surged madly o'er the roofs of citizens 

And temples of the gods. Anna has heard 

The tale. Breathless, in terror-stricken haste, 

Beating her face and bosom, through the throng 8 9.s 

She rushes, and her dying sister calls 

By name : " O sister, was it this ? Wert thou 

Deceiving me ? and were that funeral pile, 

Those fires and altars to prepare me this ? 

Bereft of thee, I count no other loss. 900 

Did'st thou disdain to ret thy sister prove 

Thy sister too in death ? To share thy fate 

Had'st thou but summoned me, with but one pang a 

One instant should the sword have slain us both. 

Have I with mine own hands built up this pyre, 905 

With mine own lips our country's gods invoked, 

But to be far — as if my heart were flint — 

When thou wert dying on it thus alone ? 

O ! sister, thou hast utterly destroyed 

Thyself and me, people and ministers, 910 

And Tyrian commonwealth. Give water here, 

And let me wash her wounds, and if there yet 









u 






132 



THE iENEID. 



One last breath linger, catch it from her lips." 
Thus speaking, she hath mounted up the steps, 
Caresses now her dying sister clasped 915 

Within her arms, while still she sobs, and tries 
^J To stanch the crimson blood against her frock, 

And Dido strains to raise her heavy lids 
Then faints again. The steel that pierced her side 
Grates in its gash, as thrice she strives to rise 920 
Leaning upon her arm, and thrice falls back 
Upon the couch. With eyes that grope and faint, 
Up to the sky she looks to catch the light, 



And sighs when it is lost as soon as found. 

In pity then at anguish sc onged, 925 

So hard a death, almighty Junu sent 
Iris from heaven, to loose the mortal coil, 
And let the struggling spirit free at last ; 
For dying, not at bidding of the law, 
^ Nor yet in nature's course, but wickedly 930 

Before her time, and in the sudden heat 
Of passion, Proserpine not yet had cut 
A yellow ringlet from her head nor yet 
Consigned her soul to Pluto, lord of Styx. 
And so it was that Iris of the Dew 935 

On shimmering pinions sped athwart the sky, 
Trailed from the sun a thousand rainbow hues, 
And poised o'er Dido's head. " The sacred lock 
To Pluto due I bear as bid to him, 
And loose thee from this body of the flesh." 940 

So spake, and with her right hand cut the lock. 
Out went life's flickering glimmer instantly : 
The spirit shot into the wandering air. 






FIFTH BOOK. 

IV /TEAXTIME straight on his voyage ^Eneas fared, 
-^ *-*• And cut the waves that roughened with the 

wind, 
His eyes e'er on the city riveted 
That now was blazing with poor Dido's flames. 
It puzzles all what lights so great a fire : 5 

And yet the consciousness how sharp the pang 
When passionate l<$Ve is blighted, and how much 
A woman's frenzy dares, awakes a sense 
Of dark foreboding in each Trojan breast. 

Soon as the fleet is out at sea, no land IO 

In sight, only the water and the sky, 
A murky tempest gathers overhead, 
Heavy with darkness and with storm. The waves 
Grow black. The pilot Palinurus shouts 
Astern : " Zounds ! how the clouds are gathering ! «5 
What hast thou, father Neptune, in the wind ? " 
Thus spake, and bade the seamen reef the sails, 
And pull with steady stroke. Close to the wind 
He hauled, and thus called out: " Though Jove 

himself, 
.•Eneas, were my sponsor for the risk, 20 

I should not hope in weather such as this 
To make the coast of Italy. The wind 
Has changed, and blows a gale across our course 
Out of the threatening west. The heavens are one 



J 34 



THE ^NEID. 



Thick cloud. No use for us against the wind 2 5 

To pull, nor can we hold our own. Bad luck ! 

But let us make the best of it, and where 

It forces us, there turn and go. Nor far, 

If memory serve me right as I review 

Our bearings by the stars, are we, I think, 30 

From Eryx' safe fraternal shore, the ports 

Of Sicily." Pious ^Eneas back : 

" Ay, ay ! I see the winds will have it so, 

And thou art battling them in vain. Give way, 

And run before the gale. No sweeter land 35 

I know, or where more willingly I beach 

My weary keels, than where of Trojan stock 

Acestes dwells, and in whose soil are laid 

My sire Anchises' bones." Soon as he speaks, 

They make for harbor, while the west wind fills *° 

Their sails and helps them on. Over the tide 

The fleet rides swift, and merrily at last 

The sailors leap on the familiar shore. 

While yet afar, from of! the mountain top 
Acestes, wondering to see them come . 45 

And heave in sight their friendly craft, all rough 
With javelins and Libyan bear-skin frock, 
Came running down. A Trojan mother gave 
Him birth, his sire the stream Crimisus. He, 
Remembering their common ancestry, 5° 

Heartily glad to see them back again, 
His rustic hospitality extends, 
And cheers fatigue with kindly courtesies. 

Soon as the morrow's sun at early dawn 
Had put the stars to flight, JEneas called 55 



THE ^ENEID. 



!35 



His men to council from along the shore, 

And spake them from a knoll : " Heroic men 

Of Trojan stock, who from the exalted blood 

Of gods descend, the circle of the year 

Is rounded to a month, since we to earth 6o 

My sainted father's bones and relics gave, 

And paid our mournful honors to his tomb. 

Once more, unless I err, the day hath come 

Which, by the blessing of the gods, I keep 

In sorrow and in reverence evermore. 6 5 

Though me an exile on'Gaetulian sands 

It find, or on the Grecian sea embayed, 

Or in Mycenae's walls, still will I pay 

My annual vows, and solemn rites as meet, 

And strew the altars with befitting gifts. 70 

Not of ourselves, meseems, but by the will 

And blessing of the gods, revisit we 

The bones and ashes of my father here, 

And enter, off our course, this friendly port. 

Come then, him let us all glad honors pay, 75 

And beg for breezes fair ; and may it be 

His will that, when our city stands, each year 

In temples raised to him, I offer there 

The selfsame reverent rites. Acestes, born 

Of Trojan stock, two head of oxen gives So 

To every crew. Our host Acestes' gods, 

Bid to your feast together with your own. 

Moreo'er when, nine days hence, Aurora sheds 

Her happy light on mortals, and enwreathes 

The great globe with her beams, I will appoint, 8 5 

First, races for the Trojan boats, and then 



136 THE ^NEID. 



Let all, whoe'er is swift of foot, who boasts 

His strength, who best can hurl the javelin, 

Or the light arrow shoot, and who dares stand 

The buffet of the bloody boxing-glove, • 90 

Be present there and hope to win the prize 

Of victory. With happy voices all 

Attend, and wreathe your temples round with leaves." 

So spake, and with his mother's myrtle bound 
. His head. Alike Acestes, full of ye,ars, 95 

And the mere lad Ascanius wreathed their brows, 
And Elymus, and all the people there. 
Forth from the council mid the multitude 
He marched the vast procession to the tomb, 
There the libation duly made, and poured IO ° 

Two cups of wine upon the ground, two cups 
Of milk, two cups of consecrated blood, 
Strewed on it flowers of rich dark hues, and cried : 
" Hail, sainted parent ! hail again ye ghost 
And soul and ashes of my father, whom ' 1Q 5 

In vain I hither bore, since 'twas not mine 
That thou should'st reach with me the Italian strand, 
The fated land, the Tiber, be that where 
In Italy it may ! " Scarce spake he thus, 
When, gliding from the bottom of the shrine, IIQ 

A huge and glossy snake its seven great folds 
Drew seven times round the tomb in gentle curves, 
Then softly glided through the altars' midst. 
Its back was marked with purple rings, its scales 
Glistened with spots that shone like gold. So draws IJ 5 
The rainbow from the sun athwart the clouds 
A thousand intermingling hues. Dazed stood 



THE /EXEID. I37 



.Eneas at the sight. It wound its endless length 
At last along the smooth cups and the bowls, 
Tasted the food, then, harming none, returned I2 ° 
Down to the bottom of the tomb, and left 
The altars it had fed upon. For this the more 
.-Eneas urges on the rites begun 
In honor of his father, doubting much 
Whether it be the genius of the place I2 5 

Or some attendant of his sire. Five sheep, 
Each two years old, with solemn rites he kills, 
And swine, and black-backed bulls as many more ; 
Pours bowls of wine ; and great Anchises' soul, 
His spirit back from Acheron, invokes. x 3° 

So, too, his followers, each whatever he can, 
Their offerings gladly pay. Some load the shrines, 
And slaughter bulls ; while some the kettles set 
In rows. Or stretched upon the turf, they rake 
The coals beneath the spits, and broil the chop. x 35 
And now the expected hour had come ; the steeds 
Of Phaethon sped in the cloudless dawn 
Of the ninth day. The rumor of the thing, 
And brave Acestes' name, had gathered there 
All who lived -near; the shores were lined with 
throngs I4 ° 

Of happy folk the Trojans for to see, 
And ready some themselves to take a hand. 
Especially before all eyes were ranged 
The prizes in the centre of a ring, — 
Wreaths of green leaves, and palms of victory, r ^5 
And sacred tripods, arms, and purple robes, 
And many a heap of gold and silver coins. 



i 3 S THE ^NEID. 



A trumpet from a central summit sounds 
The signal of the opening of the games. 

Selected out from all the fleet, four boats, J 5° 

Stout-oared and fairly matched, begin the sport. 
Mnestheus swift Pristis starts with a smart crew — 
Italian Mnestheus afterwards, whose name 
Still lingers in the house of Memmius. 
Gyas the great Chimaera starts, its size j ss 

Enormous, big enough to float a town : 
The Trojan youth row it in triple tiers. 
Sergestus, whence the Sergian family, 
In the great Centaur sits; Cloanthus, — whence, 
Cluentius, thou, — in sky-blue Scylla's stern. l6 ° 

Straight off the foam-dashed shore, just out at sea 
Rises a rock • great waves sweep over it, 
And lash it ever when the winter storms 
Enshroud the stars. In weather fair it sleeps, 
Its broad back lifted like a plain above l6 5 

The ocean's calm, whereon the water-fowl 
Delight to rest them, basking in the sun. 
On this iEneas, master of the games, 
Sets up the goal, a green and bushy bough 
Of oak to tell the rowers when to turn, I 7° 

Where the wide circuit to begin to make. 
Their places then the captains choose by lot. 
Standing astern, they in the distance seem 
^ •: Ablaze, tricked out in purple and in gold \ 

While allwthe crew are crowned with poplar leaves, *75 
Their-ftaked shoulders shining glossed with oil. 
They sit the thwarts, their arms outstretched to poise 
The oar. Eager they wait the sign to go : 



THE .ENEID. 



[ 39 



The hazard and the ardent thirst to win 

Set every heart aleap and high with hope. l8 ° 

Then when the ringing trumpet gives the sound, 
Quick as a flash all shoot out from the line.- 
Up goes the sailors' cry. Their stout arms pull 
A stroke that leaves the water tossed with foam. 
Alike they cleave their way, and the whole sea l8 5 
Swashes, ploughed by the oars and trident beaks. 
Not swifter, when they race across the plain, 
Rushing like torrents from the starting place, 
Do two-horse chariots fly, the charioteers 
Shaking above their teams the slackened reins r 9° 
And leaning forward to lay on the lash. 
The people make the whole grove ring with shouts 
And clap of hands, and cheer their favorites. 
The narrow shores far onward roll the sound, 
And back the echoing hills the clamor fling. *95 

'Tis Gyas leads, first on the open sea 
To glide and leave the din and crowd behind. 
Cloanthus follows, with a better oar, 
But with a craft of over-heavy pine. 
Next them, Pristis and Centaur, side by side, 2 °° 

Strain each to get the lead. Now Pristis wins : 
Now the huge Centaur leaves her in the lurch : 
And now together beak and beak they go, 
And in long furrows cleave the briny deep. 

'Tis as they near the rock and reach the goal, 2 °5 
That Gyas well ahead, victorious 
The first half of the race, Mencetes hails, 
The pilot of his boat : " Why dost thou keepjjj 
To starboard so ? Sheer up, hug close to shore, 

\ 









<*_*_^C— . 



I4 o THE JEXEID. 



And let the larboard oar-blades graze the rock ! 2I ° 

The rest may have the sea-room if they want." 

He thus : but timorous of hidden reefs, 

Mencetes turns the bow still out to sea. 

" Why wilt thou keep her off, Mencetes ? hug 

The rocks! " yells Gyas yet again; for, lo ! 

He turns and sees Cloanthus close astern. 

And keeping nearer in. 'Twixt Gyas' boat 

And the rocks' roaring edge Cloanthus steers 

To larboard, well inside, then suddenly. 

The leader led, into smooth water glides, 22 ° 

And leaves the goal behind. Burned Gyas then 

Down to his very bones with speechless rage, 

Nor could he keep his cheeks from tears, nay e'en 

Forgot his rank, the safety of his crew, 

And pitched the ass Mencetes from the stern -5 

Head-foremost overboard, and took himself 

The helm ; pilot and master both, he cheered 

The men and turned the rudder to the shore. 

Meantime Mencetes, rather old and stiff, 

Up bobbing from the bottom of the sea. — -° 

It almost seemed he ne'er would rise again, — 

His garments soaked and dripping, clambered up 

The rock, and sat and sunned him on its top. 

The Trojans laughed when down he went, and laughed 

When up he came, and now they laughed still more. 2; - ; 

As he threw up his bellyful of brine. 

At this, a glad hope fires the hindmost two. 
Both Mnestheus and Sergestus, to outstrip 
The crippled Gyas, lagging in their front. 
Sergestus takes the lead, and nears the rock, 2 *° 



THE ^ENEID. 141 



Not a whole length ahead, only in part. 

The rival Pristis laps him with her beak. 

Straight through his boat goes Mnestheus 'mid his men 

With words of cheer : " Now, now, spring to your oars, 

Hector's compatriots, whom, when Ilium fell, 2 -*5 

I made my comrades ! Now put forth the nerve, 

The pluck ye on Gaetulian quicksands showed, 

The Ionian sea, or Malea's chopping waves ! 

I, Mnestheus, seek not now to win first place, 

Or conquer certainty. Would, though, . . . ! butwin 2 5° 

Let them, to whom thou, Neptune, giv'st to win. 

But shame be on us if we come in last : 

Such a disgrace avert, companions mine, 

And let it not be ours ! " With all their might 

They pull : beneath their sturdy stroke, the boat 2 '^ 

Shivers from brazen beak to stern. The sea 

Seems swept from underneath. Panting for breath, 

Their muscles quiver and their parching lips : 

Rivers of sweat down all their faces run. 

Sheer luck secures the men the boon they crave. 26 ° 
For while Sergestus, on the inner side, 
Loses his head, keeps sheering towards the rocks, 
And risks the lack of room enough, he grounds, 
Poor devil, on the out-running reefs, that seem 
To shiver with the shock • the oars snap short, 26 5 
Entangled in the jagged rifts ; the boat 
Hangs swinging from the bow. L'p spring the men 
In such an uproar they but make it worse. 
They get out iron-bound poles and sharpened stakes. 
And from the water cull their broken oars : 2 "° 

While Mnestheus, who exults, and whom success 



I4 2 THE ^NEID. 



More eager makes to win, with quickened stroke, 

The winds invoking, rides an easy course, 

And runs along the open sea. So doth 

Some dove whose nest and tender fledgelings lurk 2 75 

Beneath the cliffs, affrighted suddenly, 

Dart from its shelter, springing up in air, 

And terror-struck about its covert beat 

With noisy flapping of its wings, but soon 

Through the still ether glides along, and skims 28 ° 

Its liquid way, its swift wings motionless. 

So Mnestheus, so the Pristis cleaves her flight 

Over the homeward stretch, while e'en her own 

Momentum speeds her on her course. At once 

She leaves behind Sergestus, on the reef 28 s 

And in the shallows struggling, where in vain 

He bawls for help and tries to work his way 

With broken oars ; next Gyas overtakes, 

And huge Chimaera, which, of pilot reft, 

Falls back. Just at the race's end is left 2 9° 

None but Cloanthus in her path, and him 

She seeks, and presses hard with every nerve 

Strained to the last. The shouts redouble then, 

While everybody cheers the gaining boat, 

And the air rings with thunders of applause. 2r >5 

The winners fire at thought of losing now 

The glory almost theirs, the prize just grasped, 

And count life nothing if but fame be won. 

Success inspires the others ; and they can, 

Because they feel they can. And possibly 300 

They both had won the prize, with beak to beak, 

Had not Cloanthus, stretching both his hands 



THE ^NEID. 



J 43 



Above the tide, burst forth in prayer and begged 

The gods to hearken to his vows : " Ye gods, 

Whose empire is the sea, whose waves I cross, 305 

Upon this shore a snow white bull will I, 

My vows redeeming, sacrifice to you, 

Its entrails cast into the ocean's brink, 

And pour the flowing wine." He spake : far down 

In lowest deeps, the choir of Nereids all, 310 

Of Phorcus and of virgin Panopea, 

Gave heed : father Portunus with his own 

All powerful hand impelled him on his way. 

Swifter than wind or arrow's flight, the boat 

Sped to the land, and harbored close to shore. 315 

^Eneas then, all summoned in due form, 
The herald loud proclaiming it, declares 
Cloanthus victor, laying on his brow 
The wreath of laurel green. Gifts to each crew 
He gives, choice of three bulls apiece, and wine, 320 
And a great coin of silver for to keep. 
He to the captains special honors adds. 
The victor gets a scarf inwrought with gold, 
Round which the Melibaeari purple runs, 
A rich and double border : there you see, 325 

Inwoven in its threads, the royal boy 
On leafy Ida, eager, out of breath, 
As the swift stags with chase and spear he tires ; 
The eagle, Jove's swift thunder-bearer, drags 
Him up from Ida, while all helplessly . 330 

His aged keepers stretch their hands to heaven, 
And, glaring up, the watch-dogs fiercely howl. 
To him whose pluck secured the second place, 



144 



THE ^NEID. 



He gives, to keep for ornament as well 

As use on battle fields, a coat of mail 335 

Fine-wrought with rings of gold of triple ply, 

Which he himself, 'neath Ilium's lofty walls, 

By Simoi's swift stream, from Demoleus 

In victory stripped. Phegeus and Sagaris, 

Slaves they, whose shoulders bend beneath the load, 340 

Scarce lug its many folds : yet Demoleus, 

Once clothed in it, the Trojans chased like sheep. 

The third he gives two caldrons made of brass, 

And cups of silver wrought, with figures bossed. 

Rewarded thus, each happy in his prize, 345 

They now were moving on, their temples wreathed 
With scarlet knots, when from the cruel rock 
Torn with great toil at last, oars lost, one tier 
Quite gone, came steering his derided boat 
Sergestus, with no feather in his cap. 350 

'Twas like a snake caught half across a road, 
O'er which a brazen wheel hath run, or which 
Some traveller hath left half-dead and crushed 
Under a stone flung heavily : in vain 
It tries to fly, and writhes through all its length ; 355 
In one part fierce, its eyes ablaze, it lifts 
Its arched neck high and hisses, while the rest, 
Retarded by the wound, delays it there 
Inknotting knots and twisting round itself. 
With such a stroke the lumbering boat comes on : 360 
Yet they make sail, and enter port with all 
Their canvas up. Glad that the boat is saved, 
The men brought safely back, iEneas grants 
Sergestus the reward intended him 



THE ^NEID. 



*45 



Who came in fourth. He gets a woman slave, 365 
Skilful to weave and spin, Cretan by birth, 
Named Pholoe, two young ones at her breast. 

This trial done, pious ^Eneas leads 
The way into a grassy field, whose slopes 
On every side are fringed around with woods. 37 ° 

Midway the enclosure of this theatre 
Is the race-course. Thither the hero strides 
Into the centre of the pit, a crowd 
Of people following him, and on a throne 
Sits down. He sets the prizes forth, and tempts 375 
With rich rewards the rivalry of those 
Who care to try their speed. The Trojans most, 
But some Sicilians, enter for the race ; 
But foremost Nisus and Euryalus : 
Euryalus distinguished for his grace 380 

Of figure and the suppleness of youth ; 
Nisus, because so tenderly he loved 
The boy. Next after them Diores comes, 
Of royal blood and Priam's noble stock : 
Salius and Patron enter both at once, 385 

Native of Acarnania was the one, 
The other an Arcadian and akin 
To the Tegeaean race. Then Elymus 
And Panopes, two youths of Sicily, 
Used to the woods, and old Acestes' friends ; 390 

And many more whose fame oblivion 
Has blotted out. y£neas in their midst 
Thus counsels them : " Hear what I say, and give 
Your hearty heed. None of your list shall go, 
And not some token have. To all give I 395 

10 



146 THE tENEID. 



One common gift to take away — to each 

Two Cretan darts with broad and shining heads, 

A battle-axe with silver chasing wrought. 

The first three shall have prizes, and their brows 

The yellow olive-leaf shall crown. A horse, ^°° 

With trappings decked, the victor shall receive ; 

The next an Amazonian quiver, filled 

With Thracian arrows, shoulder-slung with broad 

Gold belt, and caught with gemmed and flashing clasp. 

The third with this Greek helm must be content." 405 

This said, they stand in line and, quick as heard 
The signal, snatch the track and like a blast 
Sweep from the start, their eyes upon the goal. 
Nisus, ahead and gleaming past them all, 
Runs swifter than the wind or lightning's wings. * l ° 
Salius next, but next a good way off. 
Then after him, but with a space between, 
Euryalus is third, while Elymus 
Is next Euryalus : and close on him, 
Pressing his shoulder, lo ! Diores flies, 415 

And grazes heel on heel, and, had the course 
Been longer, had outstripped him, or had left 
The outcome of the race a doubtful thing. 

Already on the homeward stretch, they neared 
The very limit of the race, well blown, * 2 ° 

When luckless Nisus slipped upon an ooze 
Of blood, that flowing from a slaughtered bull 
Had puddled on the ground and the green grass. 
Already counting on sure victory, 
The soldier staggered there, and could not keep * 2 5 
His foot-hold on the sward, but headlong fell 



THE ^ENEID. 147 



Into the mud and consecrated gore. 

Yet then he thought him of Euryalus, 

And of the love they did each other bear : 

For rising from the slippery turf, he threw 430 

Himself ^in front of Salius, who went down, 

Turned topsy-turvy mid a cloud of dust. 

Euryalus shoots by, and victor wins 

By favor of his comrade, flying home 

Amid the cheers and plaudits of his friends. 435 

Next Elyfnus : third prize Diores gets. 

But Salius now with outcries fills the pit 

Right in the faces of the elder men, 

And claims the prize should be restored to him, 

Robbed of it by a trick. But favor saves 440 

Euryalus, and his becoming tears, ' 

His merit heightened by his handsome face. 

Diores helps him, bawling at the top 

Of his hoarse voice, for all in vain won he 

A prize, or came in for the last reward, 445 

If the first honors unto Salius go. 

Then spake father JEneas : " Boys, your gifts 

Stand as they are, and no one shall disturb 

The order of the prizes ; yet I must 

My friend's mishap — no fault of his — regard." 450 

So spake, and unto Salius gave a huge 

Gaetulian lion-skin, heavy with shag 

And claws with gilded tips. But Nisus said : 

" If such the honor of defeat, and thou 

Tak'st pity on a slip, what gift hast then • 455 

Worthy of Nisus, who had merited 

The victor's crown, had not the same mishap 



148 



THE ^NEID. 



Befallen him that Salius did befall." 

And as he spake he showed them all his face 

And figure daubed with mire. On him the best 460 

Of patrons smiled, and bade be brought a shield, 

The workmanship of Didymaon, wrenched 

From some Greek Neptune's temple gate. With this 

Excelling gift he marked the soldier's worth. 

The races over, and the honors given, * 6 5 

11 Now if there be in any breast the heart 
To dare and do, let him stand forth, and lift 
His arms to put the gauntlets on," he says, 
And makes the offer of a double prize : 
To him who wins, a bull with gilded horns 470 

And garlanded, — to comfort him who yields, 
A sword and shining helm. Quick striding up 
With blustering show of strength, comes Dares forth 
Amid the people's loud applause. He used 
To box with Paris ; at great Hector's tomb ■ 475 

On the dun beach he struck and stretched in death 
The giant victor Butes, who was wont 
To boast that he was kin to Amycus 
Of the Bebrycian stock. Such Dares is, 
As loftily the challenger he stalks, 480 

Bares his broad shoulders, striking out his arms 
Alternately, and beats the air with blows. 
They seek a match for him, but no one there 
Dares meet the man or don the boxing-gloves. 
Set up at this, thinking all yield the palm, 4S5 

He swaggers up before ^Eneas' feet, 
Nor waiting grasps the left horn of the bull, 
And roars : " Son of a goddess ! if none dare 



THE ^ENEID. 



149 



To risk him in the fight, then end the thing ! 
What use to keep me dawdling here ? Bid me *9° 
Bear off the prizes ! " The Trojans all applaud, 
And shout to let him have the promised gifts. 

At this Acestes taunts Entellus hard, 
As he sits next him on the greensward bank : 
" Entellus, bravest of our heroes once, 495 

But to no use, if now so patiently 
Thou see' st such honors won without a fight ! 
Where now for us that godlike Eryx, whom 
Thou vainly dost thy master call ? Or where 
Thy fame that rang throughout all Sicily, 500 

The trophies hanging from thy roof? " He quick 
Replied : " Not cowed by fear hath fled the love 
Of praise, the hope of glory ; but the blood 
Grows dull and chill with stiff old-age, and life 
W T ears out and leaves the body frozen up. 505 

Had I the youth which once was mine, and which 
This swashing rascal boasts, I had gone in 
Unhired by prize or bull however fine ; 
I value not the gifts." As thus he spake, 
He shied two monstrous gauntlets in the ring, 510 

In which grim Eryx used to fight, his arms 
Encased within the tough raw-hide. All stand 
Agape at seven huge ox-hides stiff with lead 
And iron sewed inside — nobody more 
Than Dares, who keeps well aloof. E'en brave 5*5 
^Eneas tries their weight, and to and fro 
He swings the gauntlets' monstrous folds, until 
The old man thus addresses him : "What if 
A man of you the guantlets and the arms 



I5 o THE ^NEID. 



Of Hercules had seen, or that sad fight 520 

On this same shore ! Thy brother Eryx once 
Used wear these very gloves : thou see'st them marked 
With blood and bits of broken heads : in these 
He stood before great Hercules. These arms 
Used I to wield when younger blood gave strength. 525 
Nor envious age as yet grew thin and gray 
Above my temples. Still, if these our gloves 
Your Trojan Dares shirks, if it seems fair 
To good ^Eneas, if Acestes bids 
And takes the risk, then let our armor be 530 

The same. I yield thee Eryx 5 hides. Fear not, 
But put thyself thy Trojan gauntlets off*." 
Thus as he spake he threw his folded robe 
From off his shoulders, and displayed his limbs 
Huge-jointed, and his bones and sinews huge : 
Giant he stood mid-centre of the ring. 

^Eneas then brings boxing-gloves alike, 
And binds the hands of both with equal arms. 
Each leans at once his weight upon his toes, 
And fearless keeps his guard well up in air. 540 

They hold their tall heads back at good arm's length, 
And sparring hand to hand provoke the fight, 
One nimble on his feet and confident 
In youth, the other strong of limb and weight, 
While yet his weak and trembling knees give way, 545 
And his hard panting makes his great limbs quake. 
Many the blows they give and take unhurt. 
Each other's ribs they pummel, and you hear 
Their sides ring back again ; incessantly 
The fist is at their temples and their ears, 550 



THE .ENEID. 151 



Their teeth a-chatter with the stinging blows. 

Stiff stands Entellus in one posture fixed, 

And only by his guard and eyes alert 

Wards off the blows. The other is like one 

Who batters with the enginery of war 555 

Some lofty citadel, or camps about 

Some mountain keep besieging it : now this, 

Now that approach he tries, o'er the whole field 

His skill essays, and every point assaults, 

But all in vain. At last, Entellus springs, 560 

Strikes from the shoulder, but betrays his hand, 

For instantly the other sees the blow 

As down it comes, and with a sudden swerve 

Glides quick aside. Entellus spends his strength 

Upon the air, and, heavy as he is, 565 

Hurls heavily to earth his ponderous weight. 

Torn from its roots, so sometimes falls the pine 

On Erymanthus' top or Ida's heights. 

All Troy and Sicily are up, and heaven 

The echo rings. In sympathy of years, st° 

Acestes is the first to run and lift 

His old friend from the ground. But at his fall 

Nor checked nor made afraid, the hero springs 

More zealous to the fight ; his wrath makes nerve ; 

Shame fires his heart, and consciousness of power. 575 

Maddened, he beats down Dares till he reels 

About the ring : he hits him right and left 

Blow after blow. Xo rest nor let-up more 

Than when the incessant hail beats on the roof : 

With blows as rapid rained from both his fists 5S0 

He drives and batters Dares all abroad. 



I5 2 THE iENEID. 



At this, father ./Eneas suffers not 
Their heat go further, nor Entellus feed 
His fury more, but ends the fight at once ; 
And rescuing Dares utterly knocked up, 585 

With these words comforts him : " Art thou so mad 
As not to see, poor fellow, that the brawn 
Is on the other side, and fate averse ? 
Yield to the gods." He spake, and at his word 
The contest ceased. Dares aboard a boat 590 

His boon friends help, his knees so weak they drag, 
His head lopped either way, while blood in clots 
He spits, and with it now and then a tooth : 
Called back, they take the helmet and the sword, 
But leave Entellus victory and the bull. 595 

He, conqueror and elate, proud of his bull, 
Cries out : " Son of a goddess, and ye men 
Of Troy, now look on this, and see what power 
Was in this arm of mine when I was young ; 
And rescued from what death ye have preserved 6o ° 
Your Dares ! " Thus he spake, stood face to face 
Before the bull that was the battle-gift, 
Drew back his fist, and rising to the blow 
Drove the tough gauntlet straight betwixt the horns, 
And stove the skull into the oozing brains. 6 °s 

Down goes the brute and quivering lies dead, 
While he stands over it and shouts : " To thee, 
Eryx, I speed this braver soul, in lieu 
Of Dares' death. This my last victory, 
I bid the gauntlet and the ring good-bye." 6l ° 

^Eneas next calls all who wish to shoot 
The whizzing arrow, sets the prizes forth, 



THE ^NEID. 



*S3 



Erects with his stout hand a mast from out 

Serestus' bark, runs through its top a rope, 

And thence suspends a fluttering dove, at which 6l 5 

To aim the shafts. The archers group ; a helm 

Of brass receives the lot that each casts in. 

Unto Hippocoon the first place falls, 

The son of Hyrtacus, who shouts with joy. 

Him Mnestheus follows, crowned with olive-wreaths, 62 ° 

The boat-race who but now had won. The third 

Eurytion is, — thy brother, Pandarus, 

Whose glory 'twas, when bid to break the truce, 

That thou against the Grecian ranks wert first 

To wing thy shaft. At bottom of the helm, 62 5 

Acestes lies till last, not he afraid 

To try his handcraft in the youngsters' sport. 

With sturdy pull they bend the arching bow, 
Each from the quiver choosing him a shaft. 
Then from the twanging string and through the air, 6 3° 
The arrow of the young Hippocoon 
Is first to cleave the swift wind, as it strikes 
And nails the mast, that trembles while the dove 
In terror flutters, and all rings again 
With thunders of applause. Lithe Mnestheus next, 6 35 
His bow full bent, stands up and aims in air, 
His eye and arrow one. Yet, pity 'tis, 
He cannot hit the pigeon with his shaft, 
Yet cuts the knot, the hempen string by which 
Foot-tied it hung suspended from the mast : 64 ° 

Free to the winds an4 gathering gloom it flies. 
Quick then Eurytion, who already had 
His arrow fitted and his bow in poise, 



I54 THE ^ENEID. 



While yet a prayer he breathed his brother's ghost, 

While yet the dove exulted loosed in air, 6 -*s 

And joyfully did flap its wings, took aim 

And nailed it on the dark cloud's edge. Shot dead, 

Bringing the shaft that pierced it, down it fell, 

Its life abandoned in the starry skies. 

The palm of victory gone, Acestes sole 6 s° 

Remained, yet none the less the old man shot 

His arrow up, showing alike his skill 

And the excellence of his loud-twanging bow. 

Then sudden flashed upon the sight a sign 

Of something terrible to come. The great 6 ss 

Event that followed taught its lesson \ all 

Too late the boding seers the omen read. 

For shooting through the murky clouds, in flames 

The arrow burst, sparks flashed along its path, 

Till burnt it faded out in vacant air, 66 ° 

E'en as a shooting star unloosed from heaven 

Sweeps with its trail of fire across the sky. 

Awe-struck both Trojans and Sicilians stand, 

Prayers trembling on their lips. The mighty man 

./Eneas welcomes it as sign of good, 66 5 

Embraces glad Acestes, loading him 

With generous gifts, and thus he cries : " Take them, 

Thou patriarch, for by these auspices 

Olympus'' mighty King wills thou should'st have 

Especial honors. Thine shall be this gift 6 ?° 

From venerable Anchises' self — a cup 

Chased heavily, that ThracianCisseus gave, 

Long time ago in his munificence, 

Unto my sire, to keep in memory 



THE ^NEID. 



155 



And pledge of friendship." So he spake, and bound 6 75 

Acestes' temples with the laurel green, 

And named him victor over all the rest. 

Nor good Eurytion, though he it was 

Brought down the bird, begrudged the preference. 

^The next prize fell to him, who cut the string ; 6So 

The last, who with his swift shaft nailed the wood. 

Father ^Eneas next, the games not done, 
Calls to himself the son of Epytus, 
Tutor of young lulus, and his friend, 
And whispers thus his faithful ear : " Go quick, 68 5 
Antl tell Ascanius, if now he hath t 

His band of boys in hand, and hath arranged 
The evolutions of his cavalcade, 
To bring his troops, and show himself in arms, 
In honor of his grandsire." Then he bids 6go 

The crowd back from the broad arena fall, 
And leave an open field. The boys advance. 
Each on his prancing steed is glorious 
In his own father's eyes ; and as they move, 
All Troy and Sicily admire and shout. 6 95 

The hair of each is garlanded with leaves ; 
Each bears two javelins tipped with iron blades; 
Part have light quivers on the shoulder, held 
By flexile chains of gold across the breast 
And round the neck. Three troops of horse they go 7°° 
With each a captain, each a separate troop 
Of twelve their leader following, and each 
With trainers guiding them. One youthful line, 
Proud of their chief, doth little Priam lead, 
Who bears his grandsire's name — thy honored son 705 



i56 



THE ^NEID. 



Polites, yet to increase the Italian race : 

He rides a Thracian horse, dappled with white, 

Fore fetlock showing white, its forehead white, 

Its neck high arched. The next, young Atys leads — 

From whom the Latin Atti have descent — ■ ? 10 

The boy lulus' chosen boyish friend. 

And last lulus, loveliest shape of all, 

Comes riding in upon the Tyrian steed 

Fair Dido gave to him in memory 

And pledge of love. Horses of Sicily, 715 

By old Acestes lent, the others mount. 

The Trojans with a hearty welcome greet 
The excited boys, and gaze on them in pride, 
As in their faces they recall again " 
The features of their sires. Soon as they ride, 720 
Full of delight before their parent's eyes, 
Around the ring, the son of Epytus, 
Who .stands apart, gives with a shout the sign, 
And cracks his whip. They equally divide, 
And the two squads draw off in ranks of three. 725 
Signalled again, they wheel and spear to spear 
Make charge. Now they advance, and now they fly, 
And now, each by the other flanked in turn, 
They meet, and wage mock battle under arms. 
E'en so 'tis said that once in lofty Crete . 730 

The Labyrinth had paths made intricate 
With turns obscure, a maze that lost itself 
Amid a thousand avenues, where you 
No clew could follow but misled the way 
To error you could neither solve nor cure. 735 

So 'twas the Trojan boys crossed in and out, 



THE ^NEID. 



[ 57 



And mixed the sportive conflict and the flight, 

Like dolphins, swimming through the deep, that cut 

The Libyan or Carpathian seas, and play 

Atop the waves. Ascanius 'twas who first, 740 

When Alba Longa he had walled about, 

This custom of the course, these tournaments 

Revived, and taught the native Latins thus 

To celebrate them. As the boy himself 

Had trained with him the Trojan youth, so trained 745 

The Albans theirs. Hence down so many years 

Has mightiest Rome long made its own and kept 

This sport our fathers honored, now called Troy, — 

The boys still as the Trojan Squadron known. 

Thus far the games in honor of the sire 750 

Had gone, when fortune, changing all at once, 
Broke faith. For while with various sports they pay 
Their homage at the tomb, from upper air 
Saturnian Juno, moving heaven and earth, 
The old wound rankling still, sends Iris down 755 

Where lay the Trojan fleet, and as she flies 
Wafts her still quicker with the wind. Unseen, 
The maiden speeding on her rapid way 
Glints down the rainbow's thousand hues. She darts 
Along the shore, and sees the mighty crowd, 760 

The port deserted and the abandoned fleet. 
Far off apart upon the lonely beach 
The Trojan women mourn Anchises' death, 
And all in tears look out upon the deep, 
One sigh on every lip, because for them 76s 

So weary yet remain so many shoals, 
So wide a sea to cross. They beg a home : 



153 



THE iENEID. 



It irks to bear the perils of the sea. 

She, knowing this and e'er at mischief apt, 

Falls in with them, but lays aside the face 770 

And vesture of a goddess, and becomes 

Thracian Doryclus' wife, old Beroe, 

Who once could boast descent and name and sons. 

Thus guised, she mingles with the Trojan dames. 

" Unhappy ye, " she cries, " whom hand of Greek 775 

Dragged not to death in war beneath the walls 

Of native land ! O luckless race, what course 

Doth fortune destine you ! Already turns 

The seventh summer since the fall of Troy, 

While still we traverse every sea and shore, 780 

Sweep past so many savage rocks and 'neath 

So many stars, and o'er the ocean chase 

An Italy that flies but farther yet, 

E'er tossing on the waves. Here is the soil 

Of Eryx, brother of our chief, and here 785 

Acestes welcomes us. Whose ban forbids 

We here raise roofs and give our people homes ? 

Oh ! native land, gods of my country, vain 

Your rescue from the foe ! Shall walls ne'er rise 

To take the name of Troy? Shall I behold 790 

Nowhere a Xanthus and a Simois, 

Those rivers glorious with Hector's fame ? 

Nay, quick with me, and burn the accursed boats ! 

In sleep the prophetess Cassandra's ghost 

Appeared and gave to me a flaming torch ; 79s 

Here look for Troy ! Here is your home! she cried. 

E'en now waits opportunity on will. 

And when so many signs to action prompt, 



THE ^NEID. 



[ 59 



Let naught delay. Lo ! here four altars flame 

To Neptune's praise. The very god himself 8o ° 

The torch, the resolution ministers." 

While yet she spake she led the way, caught up 
The ruthless brand, and wildly round her head 
Whirled it aflash, lifted her right hand high, 
And flung it forth. The Trojan women's hearts 8 °s 
Are thrilled, their reason overthrown : and one, 
Pyrgo, the eldest of them and so long 
Nurse of king Priam's sons, cries out : " Ye dames, 
Dor}clus' Trojan wife nor Beroe 
Is this ! Behold what marks of grace divine! 8l ° 

How glow her eyes ! what ecstasy of soul ! 
Her look, her voice, the very step she walks ! 
But now from Beroe myself I came 
And left her sick, unhappy that of all 
She only could not share these rites nor pay 8l 5 

The honors to Anchises he deserves." 

At this the women, doubtful at the start, 
Began to scan the fleet with eyes of hate, 
Cleft 'twixt their hunger for the land they trod 
And for the realms to which fate beckoned them ; 82 ° 
When through the sky the goddess rose aloft 
On even wing, and as she fled drew thwart 
The clouds her bow sublime. Then 'tis at last, 
Bewildered at the sight, by fury driven, 
They shriek, snatch from the sacred hearth its fire, 82 s 
While some e'en rob the altar, and collect 
Leaves, brush, and brands. The flame remorselessly 
Devours bench, oar, and wood-work of the boats. 

Eumelus is the messenger that tells 



!6o THE ^NEID. 



To them who at Anchises' tomb still sit 8 3° 

And watch the games, the burning of the boats. 

Nay, they look back and see the black smoke rise 

And mingle in the haze. Ascanius, 

While yet he proudly leads the tournament, 

Is also first fiercely to speed his horse 8 35 

Into the very riot of the camp, 

Nor can the frightened trainers keep him back. 

" What crazy freak is this? " he cries. " Ye gods ! 

What drive they at, the fools ? No foe, no camp 

Of hostile Greek, but your own hopes ye burn. 8 4° 

Lo ! I am here, your own Ascanius." 

And at their feet from off his head he throws 

The idle helm that in the mock of war 

He lately wore. With him had hastened up 

^neas and a throng of Trojans, while, 8 ^s 

In terror scattering all along the shore, 

The women fly and hide where'er they can 

Amid the woods and hollows of the rocks, 

Ashamed to face their mischief or the light. 

Restored to sense they recognize their friends, 8 5° 

Their hearts once rid of Juno's witchery. 

Yet not for that the flames and fire abate 

Their savage hold. The oakum smoulders still 

In the wet planks, and puff's a lazy smoke. 

The subtle blaze clings eating at the hulks : 8 55 

From stem to stern it searches like a plague ; 

Nor human might nor floods of water serve. 

Pious ./Eneas then throws off his robe, 
Calls on the gods for help and lifts his hands. 
"Almighty Jupiter, if be but one 86 ° 



THE jENEID. 



Among the Trojans that thou hatest not, 
If e'er thy pity moved at human woes, 
Grant now, O Father, that the fire may spare 
My fleet, and save the little left of Troy 86 s 

From utter blot ; or else, — for nothing else 
Remains, — -'if aught I merit, strike me dead 
With the fell thunderbolt, and with thine own 
Right hand destroy me." Scarce he spake ere burst 
The thick cloud instantly and poured in rain, 8 7° 

While hill and plain with thunders shook, and down 
From the whole heaven gushed forth the swollen clouds, 
That blacker grew before the lowering winds. 
The boats o'erflow ; the half -burnt wood is soaked 
Till all the fire is quenched, and every keel, 8 ?5 

Save four destroyed, is rescued from the fire. 

Father ^Eneas then, stunned at a blow 
So hard, frets at his heavy load of care, 
And shifts from plan to plan, uncertain still 
Whether to settle on Sicilian soil, 88 ° 

Reckless of fate, or tempt the Italian coast. 
'Twas then old Nautes, whom especially 
Tritonian Pallas had trained up, and made 
Famous for his much skill, and who could read 
What meant these dread inflictions from the gods, 88 s 
And what the order of the fates required, 
Consoled ^Eneas, and thus spake to him : 
" Son of a goddess, let us follow fate, 
Or it lead on or back ! Hap what hap will, 
The lot is always beaten that is borne. 8 9° 

Dardanian Acestes, sprung from gods, 
Is near \ make him the comrade of thy thought ; 
ii 



t 62 THE yENEID. 



League thou with him who only waits the word ; 

To him transfer the crews whose boats are burnt, 

Those, too, who tire them of thy mighty quest 8 95 

And of thy fortunes, and the aged men 

And women faint with voyaging ; select 

Whoe'er are weak, or peril fear ; here let 

Their weariness find rest,* and they shall call 

The town Acesta, if Acestes will." 900 

Urged by these sayings of his ancient friend, 
A thousand cares yet vex Eneas' soul. 
Came in her two-horse car the sable Night, 
And veiled the sky. Then gliding down from heaven, 
Seemed, on the sudden, sire Anchises' face 905 

To utter words like these : " My son, to me 
Once dearer than my life, when life was mine ! 
My son, o'erburdened with the fates of Troy ! 
I hither come at Jove's command, who tore 
The fire from off thy fleet, and hath at last 9«> 

Looked from high heaven in pity down. Pursue 
The counsels that old Nautes hath but now 
So excellently given. The chosen men, 
The bravest hearts, lead thou to Italy ; 
For yet in Latium with a hardy tribe, 915 

Trained to rough usage, thou must fight it out. 
But first the infernal home of Plutd dare, 
And through Avernus' depths seek interview 
With me, my son. Thither the Sibyl maid, 
After much blood of black sheep spilt, shall lead 920 
Thy feet. There thou the story of thy race, 
The city that is fated thee, shalt learn. 
Farewell. The tearful Night turns down the sky, 



THE ^NEID. 



163 



And now the panting steeds of ruthless Morn 

Are breathing on my cheek." And while he spake, 9 2 5 

Like smoke he blended with the vacant air. 

" Why hastestthou ? Whybreak'st thou from me thus ?" 

^Eneas cried, " From whom dost fly ? What is't 

That keeps thee from my arms ? " While thus he speaks, 

He wakes the ashes and the smouldering fire, 930 

Adores, with sacred meal and censer full, 

His country's gods and the pure Vesta's shrine. 

Then calls his friends, Acestes first of all, 
And tells them Jove's command, his dear sire's words, 
And what is now the purpose in his mind. 935 

No time is wasted in debate, nor doth 
Acestes shirk the bidding. They enroll 
The women in the city \ set apart 
Whoever of the people will, whoe'er 
For glory have no thirst ; and for themselves 940 

Renew the thwarts, repair the half-burnt hulks, 
And oars and rudders fit — their number small, 
But deathless valor theirs on battle-field. 

In the meantime ^Eneas with a plough 
Marks out a town, allots the settlers' homes, 945 

Bids this be Ilium and that be Troy. 
Trojan Acestes glories in his realm, 
Sets up a forum, summons senators, 
And deals out law. On Eryx' top they lift 
Idalian Venus' temple towards the stars. 950 

A priest is stationed at Anchises' tomb, 
And trees set round, held sacred far and wide. 

Now had they all enjoyed their nine days fete, 
The honors to the sacred dead all paid. 






164. THE iENEID. 



Fair breezes sweep the sea ; the south wind breathes, 955 

And oft doth call them to the deep again ; 

The rolling tide curls high along the shore. 

A day and night they linger and embrace. 

The very women, whom the ocean's stretch 

So cruel and its name so hateful seemed, 960 

Now long to sail and undergo the toil 

Of exile to the end. With kindly words, 

Them good ^Eneas quiets, and in tears 

Commends them to Acestes kin to them. 

He bids to Eryx sacrifice three steers, 965 

To Storm a lamb, and then the cable loose. 

Crowned with the olive-leaf and standing off 

Upon the prow, he lifts the bowl, spills out 

The entrails in the salty waves, and pours 

The flowing wine. As forth they go, up springs 970 

The wind and follows dead astern. The men 

Vie as they sweep the sea and toss the spray. 

But meanwhile Venus, all solicitude, 
Thus from her heart to Neptune makes complaint : 
" The bitter hate, the insatiable spite 97s 

Of Juno 'tis that drives me, Neptune, thus 
Forever on my knees. Nor length of time, 
Nor honest worth her vengeance can allay. 
Nor, though she break the law of Jove and fate, 
Doth she desist. 'Tis not revenge enough, 9§o 

That from the nations of the earth she blots 
The sovereignty of Phrygia, or drags down 
The remnant of the race through every stress ; 
Nay, she pursues the ashes and the bones 
Of the dead Troy. She only knows what cause 985 



THE ^ENEID. 165 



There is for rage so great. Thou wert thyself 

But late a witness what a hurricane 

She on a sudden raised on Libyan waves. 

Trusting, though vain, the blasts of .^Eolus, 

She mingled all the sea and sky, nay dared 990 

To trespass on thy realm. Behold but now 

The hellish craft that crazed the Trojan dames 

To fire inhumanly the fleet, and drove 

In exile on a stranger shore the crews 

Whose boats were burnt ! Since nothing else is left, 995 

I beg thee waft them safely o'er the deep, 

And let them make the Italian Tiber's mouth. 

Naught do I ask save what is promised them, 

For there the fates decree their home shall be." 

Then Neptune, Lord of the deep sea, spake thus : IOO ° 
" Venus, by every right thou mayest trust 
This realm of mine, whence cometh thy descent. 
I too have merited thy confidence : 
Oft have I stayed the storm, though ne'er so wild 
The madness of the sea and sky. Nor less IO °5 

On land, let Simoi's and Xanthus tell, 
Hath thy ^Eneas been my care. For when 
Achilles chased the panting Trojan rout, 
And drove them to the wall, and sent to death 
So many thousands that the rivers choked IOI ° 

And groaned, nor could the Xanthus find its way 
Or flow out to the sea, then rescued I 
^Eneas mantled in a hollow cloud — 
No match for grim Achilles he in strength, 
Or favor of the gods — and this I did, IOI 5 

Thotfgh 'twas my wish to level from their base 



x 66 THE ^NEID. 



/ 



The perjured Trojan walls my hands had laid. 
Still to this hour my purpose stands the same. 
Fear not. Safe shall he reach Avernus' gates, 
As thou desir'st. There shall be only one I02 ° 

Whom, lost at sea, he shall lament — one life 
Alone be sacrificed for all the rest." 

Soon as the Father thus has calmed the breast 
Of the glad goddess, to his golden car 
He yokes his steeds curbed with the foaming bit, I02 5 
And lets the reins run out of hand ; swift glides 
The azure chariot o'er the water's crest ; 
The waves go down, and 'neath the thundering wheels 
The billows break in showers of spray : the clouds 
Fly from the vast of heaven. Then round him throng io 3° 
The various shapes that keep him company ; 
Huge whales, old Glaucus' train, Palaemon, son 
Of Ino, Tritons swift, all Phorcus' band, 
And on his left Thetis and Melite, 
The virgin Panopea and Nesaee, io3 5 

Spio, Thalia and Cymodoce. 

And now at last a sweet content pervades 
Father ^Eneas' o'erwrought heart. He bids 
Quick hoist each mast and stretch 'the spars with sail. 
All tack at once, together all let^go io 4° 

The larboard now, and now the starboard sheets, 
And square or shift the yards. Fair breezes speed 
The craft, while Palinurus, in advance 
Of all the others, leads the clustering fleet. 
The rest are bid to shape their course by him. IQ 45 

The dewy night had almost turned the goal ; 
On the hard thwarts in quiet slumber stretched, 



THE jENEID. 167 

. . _ ^ 

The sailors lay at rest beneath their oars, ^ 

When noiseless Sleep from starry ether fell, 

Parted the dusky air and cleft the night, io 5° 

Thee, Palinurus, seeking, — bringing thee, 

Thou innocent, the sleep of death. There sat 

The Spirit on the lofty stern, in shape 

Like Phorbas, and thus whispered in his ear : 

" See, Palinurus, son of Iasius, io 55 

The very tide bears on the fleet : the wind 

Blows fair, the hour is set apart to rest. 

Lay down thy head and let thy weary eyes 

From watching steal away a little while, 

And I will do thy duties in thy stead." Jo6 ° 

But Palinurus, though he scarce could lift 

His eyes, thus answer made: " Dost thou bid me 

Forget what lurks when ocean's face is calm 

And waves are still, or risk a sea like this ? 

So oft by cheat of pleasant weather caught, Io6 5 

Shall I ^Eneas trust to treacherous winds ? " 

While thus he spake, he grasped the rudder hard, 

And, clinging to it, ne'er let go, but kept 

His eyes upon the stars. But lo ! across 

His brow the Spirit shook a twig that dripped l °7<> 

With the Lethean dew and with the sleep 

Of death, and shut the fainting lids that tried 

So hard to wake. The sudden drowsiness 

Had scarce begun to lax his limbs, when down 

The Spirit leaned on him, and overboard 1C 7S 

He fell, the stern-post and the rudder torn 

Into the tide with him, where all in vain 

He shouted to his comrades oft and loud, 



!6S THE ^NEID. 



While through the viewless air the Spirit rose. 

Safe on its way no less the fleet flew on, «>8o 

Borne o'er the deep, for Father Neptune's pledge 

Left naught to fear. Already now it made 

The islands of the Sirens, dangerous once, 

And bleached with many sailors' bones. Far off 

The roaring breakers echoed to the dash Io8 5 

Of the untiring sea. ^Eneas woke 

To find his boat adrift, his pilot lost; 

And, mid the darkness and the waves, himself 

Its guidance took, though many a groan he heaved, 

Stunned at his friend's mishap. " Trusting too much io 9q 

To truce of wind and wave, on some lone strand 

Thou, Palinurus, wilt unburied lie." 



SIXTH BOOK. 

So spake and wept : then crowds all sail until 
At last he grates Euboean Cumae's shore. 
The bows are turned to sea : at anchor ride 
The boats, the fluke imbedded firm : the beach 
Is crested with the rounded sterns. The crews, 5 
Eager to press the Italian soil, leap out. 
Some strike the sparks of flame, that lurk within 
The tissues of the flint. Some rove the woods, 
The wild and tangled haunts of savage beasts, 
And point the streams where water may be found. IC 
But good ALneas seeks the lofty heights 
O'er which Apollo sits, the cavern vast 
Wherein the awful Sibyl hides from sight, 
Whose mighty mind and heart the prophet-god 
With inspiration fills, disclosing her *s 

The things that are to be. Already now 
They reach Diana's groves and golden roofs. 

When Daedalus fled Crete, the legend goes, 
He on swift pinions dared attempt the air, 
Winged his strange journey to the icy north, 2 ° 

And lightly poised at last on Cumae's heights. 
Because he first alighted here, to thee, 
Apollo, consecrated he the wings 
That had been oars, and built a temple vast. 
Upon its gates he carved Androgeos' death \ 2 $ 

Next that — sad sight — the Athenians doomed each year 



t 7 o THE ^ENEID. 



To sacrifice the bodies of their sons 

And daughters — seven of either sex ; there stands 

The urn from which the lots but now were drawn. 

Upon the other side appears the isle 30 

Of Crete uprising from the sea, and there 

Is wrought the brutal passion for the bull, 

Pasiphae's unnatural device, 

The cross of man and beast, that monstrous birth 

Two shapes in one, that monument of lust 3 * 

Too foul for utterance, — the Minotaur. 

There too the inextricable Labyrinth, 

The elaborate keep to shut the monster in : 

Yet Daedalus himself — so pitied he 

The princess Ariadne's desperate love — 40 

The trick and mazes of the structure solved, 

And traced its intricacies with a thread. 

Thou also, Icarus, in work of art 

So wondrous would'st have had no slighted niche, 

Had grief allowed. Twice strove thy sire in gold 45 

To carve thy fall : twice drooped the father's hands. 

And they had lingered gazing at all this, 
Had not Achates, who had gone before, 
Returned, and with him brought Deiphobe, 
Daughter of Glaucus, Phoebus' priestess she 50 

And Hecate's, who thus did speak the king : 
" Not these the sights the hour demands. Haste thou 
To sacrifice seven bulls ne'er bent to yoke, 
And fitly-chosen sheep as many more." 

So spake she to ^Eneas. Then away, 55 

The while they haste to do her priestly will, 
She calls the Trojans to the spacious cave, 



THE ^NEID. 



[71 



Cut from the tall Eubcean cliff, and made 

Into a temple, where a hundred doors 

Lead in, a hundred out, and whence respond 6o 

As many voices to the Sibyl's spell. 

The moment they upon the threshold step, 

The virgin cries : " Now seek thy destiny ! 

The God ! Behold the God ! " And as she spake, 

There at the gates changed instantly her look 6 5 

And hue ; down streamed her hair ; panted her breast ; 

Her wild heart swelled with frenzy, and her height 

Seemed loftier, and her voice no mortal sound, 

Toned by the nearer presence of the god. 

"Trojan ^Eneas, where are now," she cried, 7° 

"Thy vows and prayers? Still dumb? Ah! never, then, 

Shall swing this awful temple's mighty gates." 

So spake she, and was still. Cold shudders thrilled 

The Trojans' stiffening bones. The king poured out 

His deepest heart in prayer. " O Phoebus, thou, 75 

Who ever pitied'st the woes of Troy, 

And Trojan Paris' shaft and hand didst aim 

Against Achilles' breast, still hast thou been 

My guide, while I have dared so many seas 

Washing so many shores, and wandered far 8o 

Amid Massylian tribes and through the lands 

That border on the Syrtes ! Now at last 

We press the Italian strand that fled so long. 

Thus far the fate of Troy its course hath run : 

But henceforth, all ye gods and goddesses, 

Whom Ilium and Troy's great glory irked, 

'Tis justice that ye spare the Trojan race. 

Thou, too, most holy prophetess, who dost 






I7 2 THE .ENEID. 



Foresee what is to come, grant me who ask 

No realm that is not fated me, that yet 9° 

The persecuted deities of Troy, 

The Trojans, and their wandering gods may rest 

In Latium. There temples will I build 

Of solid marble, cut to Hecate 

And Phoebus, and establish festivals 95 

For Phoebus named. And stately shrines await 

Thee also in my realm. In them will I 

Repose thy oracles, the secret fates 

Revealed unto my race ; and I, sweet maid, 

Will consecrate thee chosen ministers. IO ° 

Only write not thy legends on the leaves, 

Lest whirled away they fly, and be the sport 

Of the wild wind. Thyself, I pray thee, speak." 

His prayer was ended and he held his peace. 

Not yet submissive to Apollo's will, io s 

Wild raves the prophetess within the cave 
To wrest the mighty god from out her breast. 
So much the more he tires her frothing mouth, 
Conquers her stormy heart, and fashions her 
By mastering her. Then freely open wide ITO 

The temple's hundred stately doors, from whence 
The Sibyl's answers echo through the air : 
" O thou, who hast great perils of the sea 
O'ercome at last, yet heavier wait thee still 
Upon the land. The Trojans sure shall go ir 5 

Into the kingdom of Lavinium — 
Relieve thy heart of that — yet shall they wish 
They had not come. Wars, savage wars I see, 
The Tiber streaming with a flood of gore : 



THE ^ENEID. 



173 



Xanthus thou shalt not lack, nor Simoi's, I2 ° 

Nor Grecian camp. In Latium, even now, 

Achilles in another lives, he too 

A goddess' son. Nor anywhere on earth 

Will Juno cease to haunt the Trojans' flank. 

What race in Italy, what city there, I2 5 

Wilt thou not then, a suppliant in distress, 

Entreat ? Again the cause of woes so great 

Shall be the wife who charms her Trojan guest — 

Again the marriage with a foreigner. 

Yield not to ills. Go but the braver on, *3° 

Where'er thy fortune leads. Where least thou think'st, 

There will the path of safety open first, 

From out a city of the very Greeks/' 

Thus from the shrine her awful mystic words 
Sings the Cumaean Sibyl ; through the cave '35 

She wails, and clouds the truth with mysteries. 
Apollo lashes her to rage, and goads 
Her to the quick. Soon as her fury faints, 
And quiet grows the raging of her tongue, 
Hero ^Eneas thus : " Maiden, no front x -*° 

Can Danger lift I have not seen and met; 
All things have I forecast, and in my mind 
Already borne. I ask but this — since this 
Is called the gateway of the king of hell, 
The gloomy lake where Acheron out-flows — l ^ 

That I may to the presence and the face 
Of my dear father go. Show me the way, 
And ope the sacred doors. 'Twas I bore him 
Upon these very shoulders through the fire, 
Ay, through the gantlet of a thousand spears, *5<> 






I74 THE ^NEID. 



And snatched him from the thickest of the foe. 

He was the comrade of my wanderings, 

With me dared every sea, and with me shared 

All perils of the ocean and the storm, 

Though weak beyond the strength and lot of age. *55 

Nay, he it was whose lips the bidding gave 

That I, a suppliant, should come to thee, 

And on thy threshold stand. Sweet maid, I pray, 

Pity the father and the son, for thou 

Can'st all things do, nor Hecate in vain l6 ° 

Hath made thee mistress of Avernus' grove. 

If trusting only to his Thracian lute 

And tuneful strings, could Orpheus back allure 

The spirit of his wife ; if Pollux went 

So oft from heaven to hell, from hell to heaven, l6 5 

And paid the ransom of his brother's life 

By dying in his stead alternate days ; 

Nay, why great Hercules or Theseus name, — 

Count I not Jove, the King of gods, my sire ? " 

So pleaded he, and to the altars clung; *7° 

Till thus the prophetess began : " O thou, 
Trojan Anchises' son and sprung from blood 
Immortal ! Easy the descent to hell : 
The portals of its sable king gape wide 
Both day and night : but to recall the step, i n 

To reach again the upper air of heaven,— 
The pinch, the peril that ! A few, heaven-born, 
Whom kindly Jove hath loved, or pure desert 
Hath lifted to the heavens, have won their way. 
Woods gloom o'er all the intervening space ; lSo 

Cocytus winds its murky current round. 



THE .ENEID. 



J 75 



Yet if thy heart so yearn, if so intense 

Thy craving twice to cross the Stygian stream, 

Twice see the gloom of hell, and the mad risk 

Thou dar'st indulge, learn what must first be done. l8 5 

In the thick foliage of a tree there lurks 

A branch .with leaves and supple stalk of gold, 

Said to be sacred unto Proserpine. 

The whole wood hides it : in the gorge's gloom 

The shadows shut it round. Yet ne'er shall he x 9° 

The deep recesses of the earth invade, 

Who hath not plucked this golden-clustering shoot, 

Which stately Proserpine doth bid him bring 

To offer unto her. The first torn off, 

There lacks not still another branch of gold ; J 95 

The twig puts forth again its golden leaves. 

Look high, and reverently, when 'tis found, 

Lay hold on it, for if the fates so bid 

'Twill follow easily and of itself : 

But otherwise thou hast not strength to break, 2 °° 

Nor steel an edge to lop it off. Nay, more — 

Alas! thou know'st it not — thy friend lies dead, 

The whole fleet poisoned with his corse, whilst thou 

My counsel seek'st and lingerest at my door. 

Him to his resting place first bear and lay 2 °5 

Within the grave. Then sacrifice black sheep, 

And let them be thy earliest offerings. 

So shalt thou see at length the Stygian stream, 

The realms the living dread." The Sibyl spake 

No more ; her lips were sealed, and she was mute. 2I ° 

Forth from the cave ^Eneas goes, his eyes 
Cast sadly down, and ponders in his mind 



176 



THE >ENEID. 



The tangled turn of things, while at his side 
Faithful Achates walks, like full of care. 
In conversation long and ranging wide, 2I 5 

They question who may be the comrade dead, 
As spake the prophetess, — whose corse it is 
Needs burial. So, till on the dry sea-sand 
They come, and find Misenus there, cut off 
By an inglorious death — Misenus, son 22 ° 

Of ^Eolus, who had no peer when he 
His trumpet blew to .stir the soldier's heart, 
And fire the battle with its blast. The friend 
Of mighty Hector had he been : alike 
Distinguished with the bugle and the spear, 22 5 

At Hector's side full many a fight he dared : 
And when victorious Achilles spoiled 
That hero of his life, Misenus joined, 
Himself among the bravest of the brave, 
Trojan ^Eneas' ranks, nor did he then 2 3° 

Follow a less illustrious leadership. 
And yet but now, while he by merest chance 
Made the sea echo with an empty shell, 
And dared, the fool, the gods to vie with him 
To make the welkin ring, if true the tale, 2 3s 

The envious Triton caught him off his guard, 
And with a wild wave dashed him on the rocks. 
So round him now, with lamentations loud, 
All mourn, and good ^Eneas most of all. 
Without delay they haste, though still in tears, 2 -»° 
To do the Sibyl's hest, an altar-pyre 
Of tree-trunks build, and lift it to the sky. 
Into an ancient wood they go, where haunt 



THE ^NEID. 



177 



The savage beasts. The pitch-pines thunder down : 
Struck with the axe the holly rings : ash boles 2 ^5 
And straight-grained oaks are with the wedges cleft, 
And from the hills great logs come rolling down. 
Himself among the foremost in the work, 
^Eneas spurs the men and shares their toil. 

^But as he views the forest stretching far, 2 5° 

'Tis thus he muses in his own sad heart, 
And bursts in prayer : " Amid so dense a wood, 
Oh, that upon my sight there now might glint 
That golden branch on but a single tree ! 
Alas ! too truly sang the prophetess 2 55 

Thy fate, Misenus." Scarce he spake so much, 
When, chance it seemed, twin doves came flying forth 
From out the sky before the hero's eyes, 
And settled down upon the grassy turf. 
His mother's birds the mighty warrior knew, 26 ° 

And full of joy he prayed : "Be ye my guides, 
If path there be, and through the air direct 
Your flight to groves where on the fertile sward 
The golden bough its shadow casts ! and thou, 
My goddess mother, fail me not in this 26 5 

Extremity! " So spake, stood still, and watched 
The signs they gave, the way they took, while they, 
Stopping to feed at times, flew on and on, 
Yet but so fast, that following them his eyes 
Could keep them still in sight. Soon as they reach 2 ~° 
The jaws of dank Avernus, swift they soar, 
Glide through the liquid air, and side by side 
Perch on the very tree for which he longs ; 
While from its leaves gleams the bright glint of gold, 
12 



i 7 3 



THE iENEID. 



As sometimes in the woods, in winter time, 2 7S 

The mistletoe that clings about the tree 

That bore it not, shoots a new leaf and wreathes 

The shrivelled bole with yellow vines. So shone 

The golden twig from out the clustering oak : 

So its leaves rustled in the gentle wind. # 2So 

^Eneas snatched it quick • eager he broke 

Its hold, and bore it to the Sibyl's door. 

Meantime upon the shore the Trojans mourn 
Over Misenus' corse, and the last rites 
Pay to his lifeless ashes. First of all, 28 5 

A huge pyre they erect, inflammable 
With pitch-pine and with oak. Its sides they trim 
With dark green leaves ; funereal cypresses 
They place in front, and on the top of all 
The blazon of his shining arms. Some bring 2 9° 
Warm baths in kettles bubbling with the heat, 
Wash and anoint the body cold in death, 
And with a wail of grief weep o'er the limbs 
Laid out upon the pyre, and o'er them throw 
His purple vestments and familiar cloak. 2 95 

Some lift the mighty bier — sad ministry — 
And, following the custom of the sires, 
Their faces turned aside, apply the torch. 
Heaped up, the offerings of frankincense, 
The sacrificial meats, -the out-poured bowls 3 °° 

Of oil together burn \ and when the corse 
To ashes turns, and flickers out the flame, 
They dash the relics and the thirsty coals 
With wine. Then Chorinaeus gathers up 
The bones and seals them in a brazen urn • 305 



THE iENEID. jjg 



Thrice with pure water circles he his mates, 

Sprinkling the* light spray o ? er them with a branch 

Of happy olive, purifies the men, 

And calls the last farewells. Piously, too, 

^Eneas builds a towering sepulchre 310 

Unto the hero, with his arms, his oar, 

His trumpet laid upon it, at the foot 

Of that high mount that now from him is called 

Misenus — name that through all time shall last ! 

This done, he hastes to do the Sibyl's hest. 3«s 

A deep and ragged cave with yawning mouth 
Lay guarded from approach by gloomy lake 
And forest shade, o'er which no bird could wing 
Its flight in safety, such the stench that rolled 
From its black throat and swept the arch of heaven ; 320 
Whence comes the name Avernus with the Greeks. 

Opening the rites, the priestess hither brought 
Four black-haired bulls, and 'twixt their eyes dashed 

wine ; 
Between their horns the topmost lock she cut, 
And laid it, first of all the offerings, 325 

Upon the altar fires, while she invoked 
Hecate, goddess both in heaven and hell. 
Others apply the sacrificial knife 
And catch the tepid blood in bowls. To Night, 
The mother of the Furies, and to. Earth 330 

Her mighty sister, with his own right hand 
And sword .Eneas kills a black-fleeced lamb ; 
To thee, a farrow cow, O Proserpine. 
Unto the king of Styx at night he builds 
An altar, and outstretches on its fire 335 



i So THE yENEID. 



A holocaust of bulls, and on the fat 

And burning carcasses libations pours. 

And lo ! at earliest break of morning light 

The earth- beneath their feet begins to heave, 

The forest heights to move, and through the gloom, 340 

As comes the goddess forth, they seem to hear 

The howling of her hounds. " Begone, begone 

Afar, O ye profane," the prophetess 

Exclaims, " and get ye wholly from the grove. 

Do thou alone, ^Eneas, dare the way, 345 

And from the scabbard draw thy sword, for now 

Is need of all thy will and fortitude." 

So spake, and madly plunged into the cave. 

With fearless step he keeps his leader's side. 

Ye gods, whose empire is the realm of souls, 350 
Ye silent ghosts, and ye, both Phlegethon 
And Chaos wrapped in silence of the night, 
Let me repeat the wonders I have heard, 
And with thy sanction open up to view 
The mysteries of the womb and deep of earth. 355 

Alone, amid the gloomy shades of night, 
They wandered on through Pluto's vacant halls 
And dreary realms, as in the woods one walks 
Beneath the envious and uncertain moon, 
When Jupiter with vapors hides the sky, 360 

And dark night makes the whole world colorless. 

Before the vestibule and in the jaws 
Of hell, Grief and Remorse have made their bed. 
There dwell ghastly Disease and sad Old Age, 
And Fear, and Hunger bent on crime, foul Want, 365 
And Death, and Toil — forms horrible to see. 



THE ^NEID. 181 



And next to them are Sleep, the twin of Death, 
And all the guilty Passions of the heart, 
Death-dealing War, the Furies' iron rack, 
And Discord raving mad, her hair a nest 370 

Of vipers into bloody fillets twined. 

Midway, a huge and shady elm spreads out 
Its boughs and ancient limbs, wherein, 'tis said 
Perch lying dreams that cling 'neath every leaf. 
Bide at the gates all sorts of monstrous brutes ; 375 
Centaurs ; and Scyllas, man and beast in one ; 
Briareus with his hundred hands ; the snake, 
Monster of Lerna, hissing horribly \ 
Chimaera vomiting her flames ; Gorgons ; 
And Harpies ; and three-bodied Geryon's ghost. 380 
Here, sudden struck with fear, ^Eneas draws 
His blade and forward thrusts its naked point 
As they approach and, but his wiser guide 
Had minded him they were but bodiless 
And airy wraiths in unsubstantial tricks 3S5 

Of shape that wont to flit, he had charged on 
And with his sword dispersed but idle shades. 

Thence runs the way to Acheron's gloomy flow ; 
Miry and bottomless its eddies boil, 
And belch into Cocytus all their sand. 390 

Frightful in filth, Charon the ferryman 
These streams and waters guards : upon his chin 
Lies his unshorn and matted beard : his eyes 
Are shafts of fire : his squalid mantle hangs 
Tied at the shoulder with a knot. His boat, 395 

Trimmed with a sail, he pushes with a pole, 
And in his' rusty skiff takes ghosts across, — 



Ic S2 THE ^NEID. 



An old man now, but with a god's old age 

Still fresh and green. Here ever to the bank 

A thronging, countless multitude press up — 400 

Mothers and chiefs, boys, maidens never won, 

Great heroes' shades bereft of life, and youths 

Before the faces of their parents stretched 

On funeral pyres. Not faster fall the leaves 

When the first frost of autumn chills the woods, 405 

Or flock the birds from ocean to the land 

When winter sweeps the sea and chases them 

To summer climes. Pleading, they stand in hope 

To be the first to cross, and stretch their hands 

In eager yearning for the farther shore. 410 

Implacable, the pilot takes now these, 

Now those, and drives the rest far up the beach. 

^Eneas wondering and moved to hear 
Their lamentations, cries : " What.means, O maid, 
This thronging to the river bank ? What is't 415 

They seek so eagerly ? What line divides 
'Twixt those who linger on the shore, and those 
Who o'er the livid stream embark to row ? " 
Brief answers back the long-lived prophetess. 
" Anchises' son, sure offspring from the gods, ^ 2 ° 

Thou look'st upon Cocytus' stagnant flood 
And creeping Styx, by whose dread name not gods 
Dare swear and not abide. This multitude, 
Whom hither thou behold'st, unburied lie 
And destitute : Charon yon ferryman : 425 

While they who ride the waves had burial. 
For none may he across these ghastly banks, 
This groaning flood transport, till in the earth 



THE iENEID. 183 



Their bones are laid to rest. A hundred years 

They wander to and fro and flit along 430 

These shores, admitted then at length to cross 

The waters they have longed to gain." Stayed then 

His step Anchises' son, and stood stock still, 

O'erwhelmed and full of pity for a lot 

So hard, as there the wretched throng he scanned, 43 5 

Robbed of the honor e'en of death, and saw 

Leucaspis, and Orontes commodore 

Of his own Lycian fleet, whom both from Troy 

Sailing the stormy sea, the south wind wrecked, 

The waves engulfing bark and mariners. 44 ° 

Lo ! pilot Palinurus presses up, 
Who late on Libya's sea, while he kept watch, 
Had fallen from off the stern amid the waves. 
Mid the thick gloom ./Eneas scarcely knew 
His face, so sad it was, yet spake him first : 445 

"What god, O Palinurus, robbed us thee, 
And drowned thee in mid ocean, tell me now ! 
For Phoebus, never found at fault before, 
Deluded me in this one oracle, 

Singing that thou should'st safely cross the deep ^° 
And come into the bounds of Italy. 
Lo now, is this the keeping of his faith ? " 
But answered he : " Neither the oracle 
Of Phoebus hath deceived thee, Trojan king, 
Nor e'er the god did drown me in the sea. 455 

For while I sheered our course, and held the helm 
That to my watch was left, I headlong fell 
And dragged it with me in my own mishap, 
Wrenching it violently off. I swear 



1S4 THE ^NEID. 



By every stormy sea, far less I felt 460 

Fear for myself than lest, the rudder gone 
And pilot overboard, the bark that bore 
Thy fate might swamp beneath such heavy waves. 
Three wintry nights on o'er the boundless sea 
The fierce wind tossed me with the tide ; at dawn, 46s 
Upon the fourth, high on a billow's top 
I caught a glimpse of Italy. To land 
I slowly swam, and had at safety grasped, 
But that some savage tribe, that stupidly 
Thought me worth plundering, slew me with their 
swords 470 

While weighted down in garments soaked with brine, 
And with my fingers clutching at the sharp 
And jutting crags. And now the billows sport 
With me, and beat me to and from the shore. 
By heaven's sweet light and air, and by thy sire, 475 
By every hope that in lulus springs, 
I pray thee, save me from this woe, thou man 
Of victory ! Seek thou the Velian port, 
And lay me in the earth, for this thou can'st ; 
Or else if way there be, if any such 480 

The goddess that did give thee birth can show — 
For not without the help of gods think I 
Thou dar'st so deep a flood or Styx's tide 
To cross — give thy poor shipmate thy right hand, 
And take me with thee o'er the stream, that I 4S5 

At least in death may rest in peace at last." 

While thus he spake the prophetess broke in : 
" Whence comes, O Palinurus, wish so rash ? 
Would'st look unburied on the waves of Styx 



THE ^ENEID. 



185 



The Furies' awful river, or would'st thou 490 

Unbidden press its bank ? Hope thou no more 

To turn with prayers the edict of the gods ! 

But take to memory what now I say 

To solace thy hard lot ; for warned from heaven 

The people of the towns, that border near 495 

Thy death, shall lay thy bones, erect thy tomb, 

And at it pay thee solemn rites ; and hence 

Forevermore the spot shall bear the name 

Of Palinurus." Fade his fears, as thus 

She speaks, and grief from his sad heart is driven, s°° 

Made happy that a land is named for him. 

On then they push their journey well begun. 
They near the stream. Soon as the ferryman 
Looks from the Styx and sees them coming through 
The silent grove and making for the bank, 505 

The first to speak, he gruffly bawls at them : 
" Whoe'er thou art that dost, in armor clad, 
Approach my realm, say quick why comest thou ? 
Halt where thou art ! This is the abode of ghosts, 
Of Sleep and slumberous Night. No keel on Styx s i ° 
May ferry o'er a living man. Not I 
Am over fond, remembering I took, 
When faring o'er the river, Hercules, 
Or Theseus, or Pirithous, though they 
Were god-born and invincible in might. 5*5 

The one caught by the hand and bound in chains 
Hell's watch-dog Cerberus, and dragged him forth 
Whining from underneath e'en Pluto's throne ; 
The others had the daring to attempt 
To drag the queen from off the royal bed." 520 






1 86 TH E iENEID. 



Short answer makes Apollo's prophetess : 
" Here is no trick like that. Stop vaporing ! 
His armor means not force. Let in his den 
The monster watch-dog bark eternally 
To frighten bloodless ghosts ; unsullied still 525 

Shall Proserpine within her threshold keep. 
Trojan ^neas, famed in piety 
And war, into the nether world descends 
To meet his sire ; and if so bright a mark 
Of filial love affect thee naught, at least 530 

Thou know'st this branch. " And here the branch 

she lifts, 
That hitherto lay hidden in her robe. 
At this his mounting ire subsides, nor more 
He mutters. Wondering at the awful gift, 
The fateful rod last seen so long ago, 535 

He veers his dusky boat and makes the bank, 
Then hustles out the ghosts that on the thwarts 
Already sit in crowds, and clears the hold. 
E'en while he takes the great iEneas in, 
His yawl of patches cracks beneath the weight, 540 
And lets a flood of water through its leaks. 
At last, safe o'er the stream, hero and seer 
It lands mid the green sedge and spongy mire. 

Here howls huge Cerberus, three throats at once, 
And makes all ring again, at full length stretched 545 
Within a cave that guards the way. To whom, 
Soon as she sees the snakes about his neck 
Begin to squirm, the Sibyl throws a loaf 
With honey and with drowsy tinctures soaked. 
Rabid with hunger, all three jaws apart, 550 



THE iENEID. 187 



He snatches at the gift : then tumbling down, 

His monstrous limbs relax, and lie across 

The cave from side to side. The watch dog drugged, 

^Eneas quick fills up the way, and mounts 

The bank of that dread stream none cross but once. 555 

Wailings at once he hears, and piercing cries. 
Right at the threshold moan the ghosts of babes, 
Whom, cheated of sweet life, a dark hour snatched 
From off the mother's breast and whelmed beneath 
The bitterness of death. Next are the souls 560 

Condemned to die on accusations false, 
Yet not without a sentence or a court 
Their doom is cast. Minos, presiding judge, 
Doth shake the urn. The arraignment of the dead 
He makes, and hears the indictment of their lives. 565 

Next, the abode of melancholy souls, 
That, guiltless else, sought death by their own hand, 
And laid down life because life burdened them. 
Glad were they now if but in upper air 
Rough toil or want they bore. But fate forbids : 570 
The grim flood pens them with its gloomy wave ; 
Nine times the inflowing Styx around them coils. 

Near by, extending far and wide, are seen 
The mourning fields, for so they call them, where 
In secret hidden paths and myrtle groves 575 

Stray those who pfne so pitiably, and waste 
With unrequited love. Still e'en in death 
Doth love abide. Here Phaedra he beholds, 
And Procris, and sad Eriphyle who 
Shows wounds her own hard-hearted son struck home. 5 So 
Along with them Laodamia walks, 



!8S THE ^NEID. 



And Caeneus, once a boy, a woman now, 

Again by fate restored to her first shape. 

There too, in that great wood, her wound still fresh, 

Sidonian Dido wanders to and fro : ^ 

Nor sooner near her stood the Trojan chief, 

And mid the gathering gloom saw who she was, 

As one who sees, or fancies that he sees, 

The faint, young moon uprising through the clouds, 

Than burst he into tears and spake to her 590 

With loving tenderness : " Poor Dido, true 

Was then the messenger that came to me, 

And told me thou wert dead and with the sword 

Had struck the fatal blow. And I, alas, 

Did cause thy death ! By all the stars, O queen, 59s 

By all the gods, I swear, nay if there be 

Truth in the deepest of the worlds below, 

That from thy shore I went against my will. 

The bidding of the gods forced me away 

As now, on through these glooms, this black of night, 6o ° 

These regions dank with mould, it forces me ! 

I could not think parting would pain thee so. 

Stay yet thy feet nor from my sight draw off. 

Turn not away : the words I speak thee now 

Are fated for the last ! " With such a tongue 6 °5 

^Eneas would have quieted the soul 

That flashed back fire and scorned him in her eyes ; 

So would have melted her to tears. Aloof 

She held her gaze chained to the ground, nor moved 

A lid to hear him, more than had she stood 6l ° 

Statued in solid flint or Parian stone, 

Till in disdain at last she broke away, 



THE ^ENEID. ^9 



And fled into the shadows of the grove : 
There doth her first love still to her respond, 
Sichaeus' heart as loving as her own. 6l 5 

Yet none the less, touched at a fate so hard, 
^Eneas followed her with tearful eyes, 
And filled with pity as she fled afar. 

Thence on his way he toils. Already now 
They reach the farthest boundaries, where apart 62 ° 
Dwell mighty men of war. There face to face 
He Tydeus meets ; Parthenopaeus there, 
Illustrious in arms ; and there the ghost 
Of wan Adrastus ; Trojans there, who fell 
On battle-fields, still freshly mourned on earth : 62 5 
He scanned the long procession and he sobbed. 
Glaucus and Medon and Thersilochus 
He saw ; the three sons whom Antenor had ; 
And Polybcetes, one of Ceres' priests ; 
The charioteer Idasus clutching still 63 ° 

His armor and his car. # Their spirits throng 
Around him right and left, nor is't enough 
To see him once, but still they linger there, 
Keep pace with him, and ask him why he came. 
But when the Greek chiefs and the phalanxes 6 35 
Of Agamemnon look upon the man, 
His armor flashing through the gloom, they fly 
In craven fear. Some turn their backs as once 
When driven to their boats. Some fain would lift 
A feeble cry : their voices seem to faint 6 4° 

Ere yet the lips have closed that oped to speak. 

Here too he saw Deiphobus, the son 
Of Priam, mangled top to toe, his face 



I9 o THE ^NEID.* 






And both his hands hacked horribly, his ears 

rrom his shorn temples cut, his nose lopped off 6 ^5 

By an inhuman stroke, — scarce knowable, 

So trembled he and sought his hideous wounds 

To hide the while, ^Eneas speaking first, 

He heard the accents of that well-known voice : 

" Gallant Dei'phobus, born of the blood ^50 

Of royal Teucer, who hath dared inflict 
Such cruelty of punishment, or who 
So had thee at his mercy ? Came to me 
The tale, that, weary on that final night 
With slaughtering so many Greeks, thou fell'st 6 55 
At last upon a heap of mingled dead. 
Then did I build upon the Trojan shore 
,A cenotaph, and loudly thrice invoked 
J Thy ghost : thy name and arms still mark the spot. 
But oh, my friend, I ne'er could find the corse 66 ° 
To lay it, ere I went, in native soil ! " 
And thus the son of Priam answered back: 
" Naught didst thou leave for me undone, my friend : 
All honor hast thou paid Deiphobus 
And to his soul in death. But destiny 66 s 

And Helen's fatal wickedness it was 
That whelmed me in these woes. She left these scars. 
Rememberest thou how false the revelry, 
Mid which we squandered that last night — too well 
We needs remember it — when o'er the walls 6 ?° 

Of lofty Troy leapt in the fatal horse, 
And from its womb armed infantry did bear? 
She, feigning 'twas some sacred dance, led forth 
The Trojan women with their Bacchic howl, 



THE ^NEID. 



191 



While she, encircled by the group, held high 6 75 

A mighty torch, and from the temple's top 

Waved in the Greeks. 'Twas then, worn out with toil, 

And dead with sleep, I kept my hapless bed ; 

Sweet sleep and deep was on me as I lay, 

The very counterfeit of quiet death. 6So 

Meantime stripped this rare wife of mine my house 

Of all my arms, — took e'en my trusty sword 

From underneath my head : within my gates 

She Menelaus called, and opened him 

The doors, hoping perhaps so great a prize 68 s 

Would win his love, and blot the stigma out : 

Of older crimes. Why eke the tale ? They burst 

Into my chamber : added to the rest, 

Ulysses, hatcher of all mischief, came. 

Do likewise to the Greeks, ye gods ! I ask 6 5° 

With reverent lips that vengeance at your hands. 

But tell me now in turn, what chance hath brought 

Thee here in mortal shape ? Dost hither come, 

Cast by the dangers of the sea adrift, 

Or at the warning of the gods ? What strait 6 95 

Compels thee seek these sunless, sad abodes, 

This valley of the shadows of the dead ? " 

W 7 hile yet they spake, on her ethereal course, 
Aurora in her rosy chariot 

Over half heaven had swept, and haply they 700 

Had thus consumed the whole allotted time, 
Had not the Sibyl her companion warned 
And cut him short : " The night is rushing on, 
^Eneas, and we waste the hours in tears. 
This is the spot where parts the way in two : 7°5 



i 9 2 THE ^NEID. 



The right leads up to mighty Pluto's walls, — 

By it we journey to Elysium ; 

The left inflicts the torments of the damned, 

And sends them down to hell." Then answered back 

Deiphobus: "Great priestess, chide no more. 7"> 

I will depart, fill my allotted place, 

And to the shadows render me again. 

Go, go, thou glory of our race ! Be thine 

A better fate." So much he spake, no more ; 

Then turned upon the word and went away. 715 

iEneas suddenly looks back and sees, 
Guarded with triple walls, a stronghold vast 
Beneath the cliffs upon his left. Round it 
Hell's rushing river Phlegethon rolls flames, 
And whirls a roar of rocks along. In front, 720 

Huge gates, their posts of solid adamant, 
That mortal arm nor e'en celestial might 
Can shatter, stand. An iron turret mounts 
The air, and, there enthroned, Tisiphone, 
Girt in her bloody robe, guards day and night 725 

With sleepless vigilance the vestibule. 
Thence groans are heard, the cruel lash, the clank 
Of bolt and dragging chains. ^Eneas stops, 
And terror-struck drinks in the din. "Tell me, 
O maid," he cries, "what manner is't of crime, 730 
Or what the punishment it undergoes ? 
What means so loud a wail upon the air ? " 

Then thus the prophetess began reply : 
" Thou glorious leader of the Trojans, ne'er 
Can guiltless foot tread that accursed gate. 735 

Yet Hecate, when she committed me 



THE ^NEID. 



l 93 



The keeping of Avernus' groves, herself 

Taught me the punishments the gods inflict, 

And told me all. These realms, to mercy deaf, 

The Cretan Rhadamanthus rules, who hears 740 

And lashes crime : whatever the wrong on earth, 

Late though death screen it, vain its furtive stealth ! 

He wrings confession out. Tisiphone, 

With scourge uplift, in vengeance reveling, 

Makes quake the guilty soul, her left han<3 thick 745 

With loathsome snakes, while to her side she calls 

The grim assemblage of her sister hags." 

At last on shrieking hinge the accursed doors 
Are open thrown. " See'st thou," she said, "what 

guard 
Is at the door ? what shape the threshold keeps ? 750 
More frightful yet, a monster hydra sits 
Within, its fifty black jaws yawning wide: 
There hell itself gapes down and splits the gloom 
Twice deeper than the height of heaven's blue arch. 
The ancient brood of Earth, the Titan clan, 755 

Writhe in its pit, there struck by thunderbolts. 
The monster bodies of Aloeus' twins 
Here have I seen, who dared to lift their hands 
To rend high heaven and drag down Jupiter 
From his supernal throne. Here have I seen . 760 
Salmoneus bear his cruel punishment, 
Because he mocked Jove's lightnings and the roar 
Of thundering Olympus. He it was 
His four-horse chariot drove and waved a torch, 
Exulting as he swept through Elis town 765 

Amid the Grecian populace, and bade 
13 



I94 THE ^NEID. 



Them render him the honors due the gods. 

Mad fool ! to think with brazen wheel or thud 

Of horn-hoofed steeds to counterfeit the storm, 

Or the inimitable thunder blast ! 770 

The Almighty Father through the gathering gloom 

Hurled down the bolt — no fire-brand that, nor blaze 

Of smoky torch — and in a mighty gust 

Caught up and dashed him headlong to the earth. 

There might one Tityon see, the foster-child 775 

Of the all-mother Earth : his body lies 

Astretch o'er nine broad acres : with hooked beak 

A monster vulture at his liver pecks, 

That yet ne'er wastes, — his entrails that still grow 

To longer eke his punishment; on these 780 

It prowls and feasts, and o'er his vitals haunts ; 

Nor ever rests the flesh that cannot die. 

Why name Ixion, or the Lapithae, 

Or that Pirithous, o'er whom the flint, 

On point to fall, nay, as if now it fell, 785 

Its shadow hangs ? Bright shine the golden feet 

On which the lofty banquet-couches rest ; 

The feast with royal luxury is spread 

Before their very eyes ; but close at hand 

Reclines the grandam Fury and forbids 790 

To touch the table's edge \ her face she lifts, 

And roars in thunder tones. Here too are they 

Who cherished brothers' hate, while life was theirs, 

Or parent struck, or client's trust betrayed ; 

They, too, who gloated o'er their hoarded wealth 795 

Nor shared it with their kin. But more by far 

Are they who for adultery were killed ; 



THE ^NEID. 



r 9S 



And who took up unhallowed arms, and dared 

Their duty to their masters violate. 

Endungeoned here, their sentence they await : 8o ° 

Bid me not tell what sentence 'tis, nor how, 

Nor where it overwhelms their souls. Some roll 

Huge rocks or hang outstretched on spokes 

Of wheels. There sits and will forever sit 

The wretched Theseus, while more wretched still 8 °5 

Hear Phlegya's warning cry amid the gloom, — 

Learn reverence by me and fear the gods. 

Here he who sold his native land for gold, 

Imposed on it the tyrant's yoke, and made 

And unmade laws, and had his price. Here he 8l ° 

Who spoiled his daughter's bed — unnatural lust; 

And here all they who monstrous deeds have dared, 

And mastered what they dared. Not if I had 

A hundred tongues, a hundred mouths, a voice 

Of iron, could I sum up all their crimes, 8r 5 

Or all their penalties go o'er by name." 

The long-lived priestess of Apollo thus : 
" But now take up thy way," she cries; "complete 
The task thou hast in hand, and let us haste. 
The walls by Cyclops' forges wrought I see, 82 ° 

The portal's arch in front where we were bid 
To lay our offering." Then side by side 
Along the shadowy paths they quickly snatch 
The intervening space, and reach the gates. 
^Eneas at the entrance lingers yet, 82 5 

Sprinkles his body with fresh water there, 
And fixes in the door the sacred branch. 

When these are done and presentation made 



I9 6 THE ^NEID. 



Unto the goddess of their offering, 
They come into the happy quietudes, 8 3° 

The pleasant verdure of the blissful groves, 
Home of the blest. The air is purer here, 
And clothes the fields with brighter light. Their own, 
The sun and stars on which they gaze. Some try 
Their strength within the grassy wrestling-ring, 8 35 
In sports engage, and on the yellow sand 
Contend ; while others trip the echoing dance 
And raise the song. In flowing robes the bard 
Of Thrace the gamut sweeps and strikes his lyre 
Or with his finger or with ivory style. s *° 

Here are old Teucer's scions, noble stock : 
Heroes of mighty soul, the golden age 
Was theirs. Here Ilus, and Assaracus, 
And Dardanus the establisher of Troy. 
Afar, ^Eneas wondering sees the arms, 8 45 

The empty chariots of the chiefs : their spears 
Stand planted in the ground, and here and there 
Feed their unbridled steeds along the mead. 
Whate'er the love of chariot or of arms 
In life, or taste to keep the glossy steed, 8 5° 

The same goes with them .buried underground. 
Yet others right and left upon the turf 
He sees afeast, or singing, as they dance, 
Exulting paeans 'mid sweet laurel groves, 
Whence, flooding down, the Po flows through the 

WOOd. 8 55 

Here they who, fighting for their country, earned 
Their scars ; priests of pure lives while life did last ; 
Here holy prophets of Apollo, who 



THE ^NEID. 197 



Spake as ihe god would have them speak. Here they 
Whose wise inventions bettered human life, 86 ° 

And who have earned the memory of their race, 
Each wreathed with snow-white fillets round his brow. 
Thus to the clustering throng the Sibyl speaks, 
Singling Musaeus from the rest, for he 
Stands in the centre of the group, that lifts 86 5 

Its gaze in wonder as his shoulders tower 
Above them all : "Tell me, ye blissful souls, 
And thou, the best of bards, in what retreat, 
What spot Anchises dwells. We for his sake 
Have hither come and crossed hell's mighty 
floods/' 8 7° 

Thus briefly back the hero answered her: 
" No fixed abode doth any have. We haunt 
The shadows of the woods, and find a couch 
Upon the river banks, and rove o'er meads 
That freshen with the brooks. Yet if indeed S 7S 

Your hearts' desire be thither, mount yon hill ; 
Thence will I guide you by an easy path." 
He spake, and led the way. The shining fields 
From the hill's top he points : thence they descend. 

Meanwhile the sire Anchises, lost in thought, 88 ° 
Mused on the souls that cluster deep within 
That verdant dale, ere yet to upper air 
They shall return. Perchance he counted o'er 
The list of all his kin, his offspring dear, 
The fates, the destinies, the characters 88 s 

And deeds heroic of the men to be. 
But when he saw ^Eneas o'er the lawn 
And full in view approach, he eagerly 



i 9 S THE ^ENEID. 



Stretched both hands out, tears streaming down his 

cheeks, 
While burst his lips in speech : " Hast come at last, S) ° 
And hath the love thy father witnessed oft 
O'ercome the rugged way that leads thee here ? 
Thanks to the gods, I see thy face, my son, 
And hear arftTanswer in familiar tones. 
It was but now, o'errunning in my mind 8 95 

The reckoning of the time, I seemed to feel 
It would be so, nor was my heart at fault. 
What lands, what seas hast crossed that I behold 
Thee here, my son ? What perils racked thy bark ? 
I feared lest Libya's realm should do thee harm." 900 
^Eneas answered him : " Father, thy ghost, 
Thy sad ghost 'twas oft came, and guided me 
Into these paths. The fleet at anchor rides 
Upon the Tuscan sea. Thy right hand clasp, 
Clasp, father, in my own ; nor draw thou back 90s 
From my embrace." And while he spake, his face 
Was deluged with his tears. Thrice he essayed 
To throw his arms about his father's neck : 
Like the light wind or like a flitting dream, 
Thrice fled the ghost the hands that clutched on 

naught. 910 

Meantime, within an angle of the vale, 
^Eneas sees a far secluded grove, 
Its sylvan foliage rustling in the breeze, 
And Lethe gliding past its still retreats. 
Here flitted in and out throngs numberless 9*5 

Of every race and tribe ; as in the fields 
In cloudless summer-time, from flower to flower 



THE ^NEID. 



199 



The bees fly forth and swarm the lilies white, 

While all the meadow murmurs with the hum. 

Struck at the sight ^Eneas stops, and asks Q2 ° 

In wonder what it means — what stream is there — 

And who are they who cluster so its banks. 

Father Anchises answers him : " 'Tis souls, 

Fated to yet another mortal coil, « 

That now at Lethe's flood nepenthe*- quaff 925 

And deep oblivion. Long have I wished 

To tell thee of them, bring them to thy eyes, 

And number thee the offspring of my loins, 

That so the more thou may'st with me rejoice 

Now Italy is found. " "But must I, sire, 930 

Believe me then that souls, Uplifted hence, 

Go back to upper air, and. are returned 

Into the weary flesh ? Is loye of life 

So strong in hearts that once its pangs have known ? " 

" Nay, I will make it plain to thee, my son, 935 

Nor keep thee in suspense," Anchises says, 

And in its order everything explains. 

" In the beginning came the breath of life, 
That from within sustains the sky and earth, 
The liquid sea, the moon's resplendent orb, 940 

The sun and stars. Infused through all its veins, 
Mind thrills the universe and throbs through all 
Its frame. Thence men and flocks, fowls of the air, 
And whatsoever shapes the sea brings forth 
Beneath its glittering tide. A spark divine, 945 

The energy of fire, is in these seeds, 
Though yet our sickly bodies quell their growth, 
Cramped by this coil of flesh, these wasting limbs. 



2oo THE ^ENEID. 



Hence spring desire and fear, hence joy and grief : 

The soul, in prison-cell and darkness shut, 950 

Ne'er heeds the heaven from which it sprang. Nay, e'en 

When life's last glimmer fades, not all the ill, 

Not every pest infibred in our wretched lives, 

Is sloughed ; many and long inured, they needs 

Must cling, ^till rooting wonderfully in; 955 

And therefore are they purged by punishment 

To pay the penalty of former wrongs. 

Some hang laid open to the idle winds. 

From some the infection of their crimes is washed 

With floods of water out, or burnt with fire. 960 

We suffer each the afterdeath we earn. 

Through wide Elysium next we go, and reach 

At last, in number few, the abodes of bliss. 

There length of days, time's circuit perfected, 

Blots out the ingrown stain and leaves undrossed 965 

The ethereal soul, the pure essential spark. 

These ghosts thou see'st, when they a thousand years 

Have onward rolled the wheel of time, the god 

Summons in mighty throngs to Lethe's flood, 

Whence they oblivious revisit earth, 970 

Inclined once more to put the body on." 

Anchises leads the Sibyl and his son, 

As thus he speaks, where thickest is the throng 

And loud the hum, and stands upon a knoll 

Whence, as in long array they pass in front, 975 

He may survey them one by one and make 

Acquaintance with the faces that approach. 

" And now give ear while I thy destiny 
Unfold, and tell what glory doth await 



THE 2ENEID. 201 



The Trojan race : what offspring shall arise 9S0 

From out the Italian stock \ what souls shall yet 
Add lustre to our name in time to come. 

."Yon youth, that on his headless spear doth lean, 
Is destined next to see the light ; he first 
Shall rise to upper air, and mix the blood 9 8 5 

Of Italy with thine — thy latest child, 
And Silvius his Alban name. Him late, 
When thou art old, thy wife Lavinia 
Shall in the forest bear, to be a king 
And sire of kings through whom our race shall rule 990 
O'er Alba Longa. Next him Procas stands, 
An honor to the Trojan stock : Capys, 
And Numitor : ./Eneas Silvius there, 
Alike illustrious in piety 

And arms, in whose name thou shalt live once more 995 
Whene'er he to his own shall come again 
And rule o'er Alba. See ! what youths they are ! 
What manliness is theirs ! Next, they, who lift 
Their temples with the civic oak-leaf crowned, 
Shall for thee found Nomentum, Gabii, IOO ° 

The city of Fidena : they shall build 
Upon the mountain-top Collatia's towers, 
Pometii, Bola, Cora, and the hold 
Of Inuus : such then shall be their name j 
Now are they lands without a name. Nay, look ! IO °5 
There, at his grandsire's side, comes Romulus, 
Who hath in him the blood of Mars, and whom 
His mother Ilia, shall bear, herself 
Of Trojan stock. Dost note upon his head 
The double crest ? The Father of the gods 10I ° 



202 THE ^NEID. 



With his own grace hath him already marked. 

By him inspired shall glorious Rome, O son, 

Her empire measure by the ends of earth, 

Her daring by the pinnacle of heaven. 

Her walls alone shall circle seven high hills, — I07 s 

In her heroic children blessed as is 

The Berecynthian mother of the gods, 

Who, proud of such a womb, rides turret-crowned 

Through Phrygia's cities in her chariot 

To greet her hundred grandsons, all enthroned ro2 ° 

And dwellers on the lofty heights of heaven. 

Here, here direct thine eyes: look on this stock, 

These Romans — all thine own. Caesar is here; 

And all who from lulus spring, and who 

Are yet to come 'neath heaven's high canopy. ro2 5 

This, this is he, the man thou hast so oft 

Heard promised thee, — Augustus Caesar, son 

Unto a god. He shall in Latium 

The golden age restore throughout the land 

Where Saturn once was king: his empire he io ^° 

Shall limit nor by Garamant nor Ind ; 

But his domain beyond the stars shall reach, 

Beyond the year's great pathway of the sun, 

Where Atlas on his shoulders lifts and turns 

The heavens with glittering constellations gemmed. IO? 5 

E'en now, at his approach, the Caspian realms 

Shudder to hear the warnings of the gods, 

While quake the borders of the Euxine sea, 

The frightened seven-mouthed outlets of the Nile. 

Ne'er Hercules so wide a circuit ranged, IO -*° 

Though he the brazen-footed hind transfixed, 



THE ^NEID. 203 



The groves of Erymanthus freed from fear, 

And made the Hydra cower before his shaft : 

Nor Bacchus, though victorious he drove 

His span of tigers from high Nysa's top 10 *5 

And lashed them with a vine-leaf for a rein. 

Doubt we henceforth our valor into deeds 

To put, or fear to root in Italy ? 

" But who is yon, crowned with the olive-leaf, 
That bears the sacred wares ? I recognize io s° 

The locks, the gray beard of that king of Rome 
Who first shall found the city on the base 
Of law, and rise from Cures' humble town 
And low estate to mighty sovereignty. 
Tullus shall follow him ; from its repose io 55 

His country rouse, and stir to arms again 
The slumbering populace, the ranks now long 
Unused to triumph on the field. Next him, 
Ancus, too wont to boast, too eager he 
To ring his praises in the people's ears. Io6 ° 

Would'st thou behold the Tarquin kings, the stern 
Avenger Brutus' soul, the fasces wrenched 
From tyrant's grasp ? He of the Romans first 
To hold the consulship, to wield its badge — 
The heartless axe — and, father though he be, Io6 s 
Condemn to death, for freedom's dearer sake, 
His sons rebelling 'gainst the commonwealth ! 
Unhappy sire ! yet, let posterity 
Regard the deed howe'er it may, the love 
Of native land, the measureless desire IO /° 

To win the meed of praise, shall conquer all. 
There too the Decii, the Drusi see ! 



204 



THE ^ENEID. 



Torquatus spares not e'en his son the axe : 
Camillus wrests our banners from the foe. 
But they, whose arms flash on thy sight alike, 
United now the while their souls are shades, 
Alas ! the wars, the battle-fields, the blood 
Between them they shall answer for, if e'er 
They reach the light of day ! Father-in-law 
The one, who from the Alpine hills comes down loSo 
And from Moncecus' heights; his son-in-law 
Confronting him with squadrons from the East. 
Whet not your souls to such malignant strife, 
O youths, nor turn your manhood's energies 
Against the vitals of your native land ! Io8 5 

And be thou first to spare her, thou who dost, 
Blood of my blood, from heaven derive thy birth ; 
Cast thou at once thy weapons from thy hands ! 

" Stands next, who to the lofty Capitol 
Shall ride in triumph over Corinth's fall. io 9° 

Next, who, avenger of his Trojan sires 
And of Minerva's desecrated shrines, 
Now razes Argos and Mycense, home 
Of Agamemnon, — nay, in triumph leads 
^Eacides again, the very kin io 95 

E'en of Achilles peerless on the field. 

" Thy name, great Cato, who shall fail to speak ? 
Or, Cossius, thine ? Or Gracchus and his sons ? 
Or the two Scipios, twin thunderbolts 
Of war, and scourge of Africa? Or that IIO ° 

Fabricius, whose poverty was power ? 
Or Cincinnatus sowing in his fields ? 
Whither do ye not tempt me, Fabii, 



THE ^NEID. 



205 



Though I already falter at the task ? 
That Maximus art thou, who — none else can — iio s 
Sav'st Rome by biding all and risking naught. 
\y I doubt not other lands shall finer mould 
The bronze until it breathe, or marble cut 
To lineaments that live, or better plead 
A cause, or with the rod the astronomy I1IQ 

Of heaven describe and name the rising stars ; 
But, son of Rome, remember it is thine 
To stretch thy empire o'er the human race. 
This be thy aim, — to dictate terms of peace, 
The vanquished spare, but bring the haughty low." Irl 5 

Father Anchises thus ; then added, while 
T^heir wonder grew : " Lo ! there Marcellus comes, 
Illustrious with triumphal trophies won, 
In victory topping o'er all other men. 
He is the knight who, when wild panics threat, II2 ° 
Upholds the Roman state : 'tis he who routs 
The Carthaginians and the rebel Gauls, 
And is the third who hangs to Father Jove 
Arms captured from the leader of the foe." 

^Eneas here breaks in; for, he beholds, II2 5 

There walking at Marcellus' side, a youth 
Whose shape is grace itself, whose armor shines, 
Yet all too faint the gladness on his brow, 
And sad the lustre of his eyes : " O, sire, 
Who is't that saunters at the hero's side ? IJ 3° 

His son ? some grandson of that glorious stock ? 
How close his comrades throng ! How in himself 
A paragon ! yet round his head e'en now 
Death's shadow hovers with its boding wings." 



2o6 THE ^ENEtD. 



Anchises then, tears gushing from his eyes, II3 5 
Thus answers him : " Wake not, my son, the grief 
That o'er thy children hangs so heavily. 
Fate doth but show him to the world — no more. 
Too mighty had ye deemed the Roman seed, 
Ye gods,- gave ye this fruitage for its own. XI -*° 

What groans from out the people's heart of hearts 
Shall Campus Martius echo back to Rome ! 
What funeral rites shalt thou, O Tiber, see, 
When thou shalt wash the fresh turf on his grave ! 
No son of Trojan stock shall ever lift lI *s 

The Latin fathers' hopes so high : nor e'er 
The land of Romulus so pride itself 
On nursling of its breast. Ah me, what truth, 
What honor of the olden time in him ! 
His good right hand invincible in war, IJ 5° 

All had gone down before him in the fight, 
Whether on foot he flung him on the foe, 
Or ploughed with spurs his foaming charger's flanks ! 
Alas ! poor boy, if ever thou canst burst 
Fate's fetters through, Marcellus shalt thou be ! IX 55 
Fling lilies with o'erflowing hands, and let 
Me strew his grave with violets, at least 
These honors showering o'er my grandson's shade, 
And rendering him the service to the dead." 

So stray they here and there the whole realm 
o'er Il6 ° 

Through fields of airy space, and all survey. 
And as Anchises to his son unfolds 
Scene after scene, and fires his soul with thirst 
For glory yet to come, he tells him too 



THE iENEID. 207 



Of wars that must be waged, instructing him Il6 5 

Anent the inhabitants of Latium, 
The city of Latinus, and how best 
To meet or fly each peril as it comes. 

Two gates hath Sleep : one said to be of horn, 
Whence the true dream wings easily its flight ; ir ?° 
The other wrought of pure bright ivory, 
Whence send the dead false dreams into the world : 
So when Anchises, talking all the way, 
Thus far attends the Sibyl and his son, 
He gives them exit by the ivory gate. "75 

./Eneas hastens to the fleet, rejoins 
His men, and coasts the shore straight to the port 
Of Cai'eta. There at anchor ride 
The prows : the sterns are beached upon the sand. 



SEVENTH BOOK. 

1VJURSE of ^Eneas, Caieta, thou 

■^ ^ In death didst give our shores eternal fame : 

Still there thy honor keeps its hold, and still 

Thy name, if that be glory, marks the spot 

Where in great Italy thy bones were laid. 

There duly paid thy funeral obsequies, 

The turf raised o'er thy grave, soon as the deep 

Is calm, ^Eneas wings his way and leaves 

The port behind. Stiffens the wind at night ; 

Along his course the moon shines full and fair, ] 

And the sea gleams beneath its trembling sheen. 

The coast of Circe's land is skirted next, 
Where that luxurious daughter of the sun 
With ceaseless singing fills the fatal groves, 
And 'neath her proud roof, to illume the night, * 

The fragrant cedar burns while shrilly flies 
Her shuttle through the slender web. From off 
The land you hear the angry lions roar, 
Shaking their chains and howling late at night : 
Rage bristling swine and prisoned bears, and loud 2 
Bark monstrous wolves : all these by potent herbs 
The cruel goddess Circe hath transformed 
From human forms into the face and shape 
Of savage beasts. Lest the good Trojans too, 
Into her harbor driven or drawing near 2 

A coast so dire, the selfsame horrors share, 



THE yENEID. 209 



Neptune with fair winds fills their sails, swift speeds 
Their flight, and lifts them o'er the fervid shoals. 

The sea was reddening with the morning sun, 
And from her airy height shone ruddy down 30 

Aurora in her rosy car, when lo ! 
The wind grew calm, not e'en a breath did stir, 
Nor e'er a ripple wrestled with the oar. 
From off the deep ^Eneas looks and sees 
A thick wood, out of which with eddies swift 35 

The Tiber's grateful stream leaps to the sea, 
Yellow with drifts of sand. Birds of all hues 
Haunt at and o'er its banks and bed, charm all 
The air with song, and fly from tree to tree. 
He bids his men bear in and make the shore, 40 

And eagerly ascends the shady stream. -^ 

Help, Muse of Love, while now I sing the kings, 
The times, the state of ancient Latium, 
When first the shores of Italy this band 
Of strangers trod, and how the fight began ! 45 

Do thou, O goddess, fire thy bard ! Grim wars 
Will be my song, and battle-fields, the kings 
Whose valor spurred them to the death, the troops 
Of Tuscany, and all Hesperia 

Ablaze with arms. A loftier chord I strike ; $° 

A nobler theme I dare. 

An old man now, 
Latinus, king, long time had ruled the lands 
And cities of his realm in tranquil peace, 
Son, it is said, of Faunus and the nymph ■ 55 

Marica of Laurentum. Faunus' sire 
Was Picus, who himself claimed parentage 

!4 



2io THE iENEID. 



From thee, O Saturn, founder of the line. 
Gods' will it was this king no issue male, 
No son should have ; none bloomed that was not 
snatched 6o 

Away ere youth did bud. His mighty realm 
And race hung on one only daughter's fate, 
Ripe now to wed, just flowered to womanhood. 
From wide o'er Latium and all Italy 
Sought many a one her hand. Seeks Turnus it, 6 s 
The handsomest of all, noble by link 
On link of ancestry. Him the king's wife 
Strove with all zeal to make her son-in-law. 
By manifold dread signs the gods forbade. 

Midway the palace in the inner court, 7° 

Now reverently kept for many years, 
A laurel waved its. sacred foliage. 
Father Latinus, so 'tis said, himself, 
When he foundations for the temple laid, 
Found and to Phcebus consecrated it, 75 

And thence the name Laurentum gave to all 
That land. Hither, strange tale to tell, a hive 
Of bees, loud buzzing through the clear air, came 
And clustered in its top, till suddenly 
From off a leafy bough hung foot to foot So 

The swarm. At once the prophet cried: "Behold, 
A stranger comes ! Whither and whence the bees, 
So strangers swarm to rule our citadel." 

While near her sire the maid Lavinia stood, 
As she too fed the shrines with sacred fires, 8 * 

They saw her flowing tresses catch the blaze 
Alas ! and burn all ringed with crackling flame. 



THE iENEID. 2II 



Her royal locks and diadem of gems 

On fire, she stood enwreathed in smoke, amid 

A yellow halo, while the sparks o'er all 90 

The palace flew. Startling and wonderful 

Indeed the sight : her, so the augurs said, 

Fame and the fates would make illustrious ; 

Yet to the land it meant a mighty war. 

The king, moved by these signs, the oracles 95 

Of Faunus his prophetic sire consults, 
And seeks the groves 'neath deep Albunea, . 
Where in the thickest of the forest purls 
A sacred spring, and from its gloomy damps 
A baleful vapor breathes. 'Tis in this spot IO ° 

The Italian tribes and all Enotria come 
For guidance when in doubt. Hither a priest 
His offering brings, and 'neath the silent night 
Lies on his bed of skins of victim sheep, 
That he may dream. Then sees he many ghosts io 5 
That strangely flit, and varied voices hears, 
Enjoys the conversation of the gods, 
And speaks the deities of lowest hell. 
Here also now father Latinus sought 
Response; a hundred sheep he sacrificed, "° 

And on their skins and fleeces made his bed. 
Quick came a voice from out the forest gloom : 
" Seek not to wed thy daughter, son of mine, 
To Latin lord. Trust not the intended match. 
From foreign shores a son-in-law shall come IJ 5 

Whose seed our glory to the stars shall bear, 
Whose sons shall see all lands from shore to shore, 
On which at rise or set the sun looks down, 



THE ^ENEID. 



Submissive at their feet, and ruled by them." 

Nor did Latinus lock his lips upon I2 ° 

His father Faunus' words and warnings given 

In the still night ; but rumor flying fast 

Already through the Italian towns did spread 

Them far and wide, e'en while the Trojan youths 

Moored to the river's grassy bank their boats. I2 $ 

Beneath the foliage of a lofty tree, 
^Eneas and his chiefs and the fair boy 
lulus laid them down. They spread the feast, 
Along the turf for platters for their food 
Ranged wheaten cakes — 'twas Jove suggested it — x 3° 
And heaped wild fruits upon this cereal board. 
And when the rest was eaten, and the want 
Of more to eat compelled them set their teeth 
Into this scanty stock and violate 
With touch and reckless taste the fatal crust, J 35 

With not a single quarter of the round 
To spare, " Woe's me ! we eat our trenchers," cried 
lulus, laughed and said no more. That word, 
Soon as they heard it, marked their wanderings' end. 
His father caught it from his speaking lips, I4 ° 

Awed at the providence too much to speak. 
But soon he cried : " Hail to the land that fate ^ 
Hath owed me long ! Hail, too, ye faithful gods 
Of Troy ! This is our home, our country this ! 
I mind me now, my sire Anchises left I4 $ 

Just this phase of my destiny obscure : 
When driven upon an unknown shore, my son, 
Thy food cut off, hunger shall force thee eat 
Thy trenchers too, remember thou y he said, 



THE .-EXEID. 



213 



However weary, then and there to hope '5° 

To find thy home, and there lay deep thy walls 

And guard them well. The hunger that he meant 

Is this. This test, that lingered last of all, 

Will put a limit to our sufferings. 

Up then ! and merrily at break of day J 55 

Let us find out what tract of land it is, 

Who dwell on it, and where the city lies, 

Each following from the port his separate way. 

Now pour the bowl to Jove ; invoke with prayers 

Anchises sire, and crown the board with wine." l6 ° 

So spake, and wreathing leaves around his head, 
Prayed to the Genius of the place, to Earth 
The mother of the gods, to nymphs and streams 
Unknown till then ; then one by one invoked 
Night, and the Night's uprising stars, and Jove l6 5 
Of Ida, and the Phrygian Cybele, 
And both his parents, one above and one 
Below. At this the Almighty Father thrice 
Loud thundered from his heavenly height, and flashed 
From his quick-darting hand from forth the sky v t> 
A cloud that flamed with fire and gold. At once 
A rumor 'mongst the Trojans spreads that now 
The time hath come when they their promised walls 
May lay. On goes the feast, and full of mirth 
They gayly lift the glass and crown the wine. *75 

At daybreak when with light the morrow spans 
The earth, they go apart to find what sort 
Of city, country, shore or race it is. 
They find the streams from Fount Numicus flow, 
The river is the Tiber, and that here lSo 



214 



THE ^NEID. 



The valiant Latins live. Thereat, forthwith 

iEneas bids a hundred envoys, picked 

From every grade, with olive-branches crowned, 

Go to the stately palace of the king, 

Bear gifts to him, and for the Trojans ask l8 5 

A truce. No moment lost, they haste his will 

To do, and rapidly move on, while he 

Marks out his city by a narrow ditch, 

Makes strong the place, and, settling on the shore, 

Surrounds it like a fort with mounds and wings. J 9° 

And now their journey done, the ambassadors 
Arrive in sight of Latium's high towers 
And roofs, and make its walls. Before the town, 
Boys and just budding youths on horses ride, 
Their chariots drive mid clouds of dust, or draw *95 
The twanging bow, or hurl the slender lance, 
Each other challenging to run or strike ; 
When quick a mounted messenger reports 
To the old king's ears that mighty men approach 
In stranger garb. He bids to bring them in, 2 °° 

And mid them sits on his ancestral throne. 

Upon the summit of the city stood, 
High on a hundred columns raised, a dome 
Spacious and grand, the royal palace once 
Of Picus of Laurentum, gloomed with shade 2 °5 

And with the holy mysteries of eld. 
Happy the king who here assumed the crown, 
Or here the sceptre first did lift. To such, 
This temple was his court. Here sacred feasts 
Were held ; and here, the victim killed, long sat 2I ° 
Our fathers at the board. Nay, e'en there stood, 



THE ^NEID. 



215 



Within the vestibule in order ranged, 
The images of far-back ancestors 
Carved from old cedar. There stood Italus ; 
Father Sabinus, planter of the vine, 2i s 

Who leaned upon the scythe beneath his hand ; 
The old man Saturn ; and the double face 
Of Janus. Other kings were there, e'en from 
The earliest times, scarred with brave wounds they won 
In fighting for their country. Many arms 22 ° 

There also were, hung to the sacred posts, 
'Chariots in battle taken, axes curved, 
The crests of helmets, massive bolts of gates, 
Darts, shields, and brazen beaks from galleys torn. 
Horse-tamer Picus with his prophet's wand, 22 5 

His scanty robe girt in, here sat and held 
In his left hand a shield. Struck by her rod 
Of gold, and by her poisons shaped anew, 
Him amorous Circe, mad with passion, made 
A bird and decked his wings with many hues. 2 3° 

Seated in such a temple of the gods 
And palace of his sires, Latinus calls 
The Trojans in before him, greeting them, 
As there they enter, with a pleasant word: 

" Speak, men of Troy, for not unknown to us 23 s 
Your race or city, nor unheard that ye 
Were hither voyaging. What is't ye seek ? 
What need hath borne ye o'er the water blue 
To the Italian coast ? Whether it be 
Your reckoning lost, or beat about by storms, 2 4° 

Or by whatever perils of the sea 
Ye gain at last our Tiber's banks and ride 



2i6 THE ^NEID. 



At anchor in our port, refuse ye not 

Our hospitality, nor e'er forget 

From Saturn that the Latins spring, whom fear 2 -*5 

Nor laws make just, but who of their free will 

Follow the example of that ancient god. 

Nay, I recall, though years have dimmed the tale, 

The old Auruncans used to say, that born 

In these parts, Dardanus hence made his way 2 5° 

To the Idaean towns of Phrygia 

Through Thracian Samos, now named Samothrace. 

From Carythus, a Tuscan city, hence 

He went, and now enthroned in golden halls 

He sits in starry heaven, while here on earth . 2 ss 

His altar swells the worship of the gods." 

He paused. Thus answered back Ilioneus : 
" O king, of Faunus' noble blood, 'twas not 
The lowering storm that drove us, tossed at sea, 
To land upon thy shores, nor have we lost 26 ° 

By star or coast the reckoning of our way. 
With willing minds and purposely this town 
We sought, here driven from realms, the greatest once 
In all its circuit from extremest East 
The sun looked down upon. From Jove we spring : 26 s 
The Trojan boy boasts Jove his ancestor. 
Trojan ^Eneas sent us to thy gates.' 
Lives not the man on earth's remotest edge,* 
With ocean rolled between, or isolate 
Where midmost of the zones the tropic burns 2 7° 

Beneath a scorching sun, who hath not heard 
How wild a storm from fierce Mycenae burst- 
And swept the Idaean fields, or what the fates 



THE iENEID. 



217 



That flung at one another's throats the worlds 

Of Europe and of Asia. From that wreck, 2 7S 

Over so many wastes of ocean borne, 

We come to ask a meagre spot to plant 

Our country's gods, a kindly shore, whereon 

The water and the air are free to all. 

We shall not be unworthy of thy realm ; 28 ° 

Nor lightly would we value thy renown, 

Nor soon forget the gratitude we owe 

For such a favor. Italy shall ne'er 

Regret it gave Troy welcome to its soil. 

Nay, by ^Eneas' fortunes, his stout hand, 28 s 

Proved as he is in honor, war, and arms, 

I swear not few the tribes, not few the lands, 

(Despise us not that of our own free will 

We lade our hands with wreaths, our lips with prayers,) 

That have with us alliance sought and urged. 2 9° 

It is the gods' decrees have driven us, 

Obedient to their will, to seek thy shores. 

Here Dardanus was born : us hither back 

Apollo calls, and by his mighty hest 

To Tuscan Tiber and the sacred flow 2 ?5 

Of Fount Numicus urges us. Nay more, 

JEneas sends thee these — but slender gifts, 

Relics of better days — saved from the flames 

Of Troy. Father Anchises at the shrines 

Oft poured libations from this cup of gold : 300 

This sceptre Priam swayed as was his wont 

When he amid the assembled people voiced 

The majesty of law : this sacred bowl, 

These robes, wrought by the dames of Troy, were his." 



218 THE yENEID. 



The while Ilioneus was speaking thus, 305 

Latinus steadily bent down his face 
And kept it fixed upon the ground, his eyes 
Uneasily intent. Less heeds the king 
The embroidered purple robe or Priam's staff 
Than weighs the match and marriage of his child. 3*0 
At heart he ponders on the oracle 
Of ancient Faunus, thinking this perchance 
May be that son-in-law from foreign land 
Portended bv the fates, and called to share 
His realm in common with himself: that hence 315 
A race of such rare valor shall descend, 
Its prowess yet will master all the world. 
Content at last, he cries : " Now let the gods 
Our undertakings and their auguries crown. 
Whate'er thou wishest, Trojan, shall be thine. 320 

Nor do I spurn thy gifts. Ye shall not want, 
Long as Latinus reigns, fertility 
Of generous soil nor e'en the opulence 
Of Troy. Let but ^Eneas come himself, 
If he so seek us and so yearn to seal 325 

The bond of friendship and be called ally. 
Let him not fear the faces of his friends ! 
'Twill -be the part of peace with me to clasp 
The chieftain's hand. Now to your king in turn 
My bidding bear. I have a daughter, whom 330 

The oracles from my ancestral shrine, 
And sign on sign from heaven, forbid me give 
To husband of our race. They prophesy 
A son-in-law shall come from foreign shores 
And here in Latium abide, whose blood 335 



THE JE1 219 



Shall lift our glory to the stars. I feel 
That this is he the fates point out ; and him, 
If aught of truth my mind forecast, I choose." 

This said, the sage chose horses from his steeds — 
Three hundred sleek steeds standing in his stalls — 340 
And bade be led to every Trojan there 
A courser fleet, trapped with embroidered stuffs 
And purple ornaments. Breastplates of gold 
Hung from their necks. Bedecked with gold they 

champed 
A yellow golden bit. Remembering 345 

Their absent chief ^Eneas, him he sent 
A chariot and twain coursers yoked to it — 
Whose nostrils breathed forth fire ; immortal blood 
Mixed in their veins — born of that mongrel stock 
That crafty Circe cheated from her sire 350 

And bred by stealth from out a common mare. 
So with Latinus' words and gifts return 
The Trojans on their steeds, and peace report. 

Lo ! at that moment Jove's malicious spouse 
Up from Inachian Argos went her way, 355 

And as she sped had all the world in view. 
High in the air, e'en o'er Pachynus' point, 
The extreme of Sicily, she caught the sight . 
Of glad ^Eneas and the Trojan fleet. 
She saw his roofs already rise, his hopes 360 

But now entrusted to the soil, his boats 
Deserted. Rent with pangs of rage, she stopped ; 
Then shook her head and burst forth thus : " Again 
That hated race, the Trojans' destinies 
That battle with the destinies of mine ! 365 



THE ^ENEID. 



Could they not die upon Sigea's plains ? 

Could not captivity them captive keep ? 

Could not the fires of Troy their champions burn, 

That they have found their way through steel and flame? 

Am I to think my might is spent at last, 370 

My vengeance sated, and I pacified ? 

Dared I not chase them, their relentless foe, 

With shipwreck o'er the deep, and block their fleet 

On every sea? The power of wind and wave 

Hath been exhausted on these men of Troy. 375 

What help to me the Syrtes ; Scylla e'en ; 

Or deep Charybdis ? Safe past sea and me, 

They shelter in the long-sought Tiber's bed. 

Mars could exterminate the mighty race 

Of Lapithae. The Father of the gods 380 

Himself demolished ancient Calydon 

To sate Diana's rage. Yet what the crime 

That Lapithae had done, or Calydon, 

That had deserved so ill ? While I, proud wife 

Of Jove, who, foiled, yet nothing left undared 385 

But turned me still to each expedient, 

Am by ./Eneas beat ! If my own might 

Be not enough, I shall not hesitate 

To beg whose'er I can. If powerless 

To sway the gods of heaven, I will move hell ! 390 

What though it be, that from the Latin realm 

I may not bar him out ; what though it be 

Irrevocable fate, Lavinia 

Shall be his wife : yet may I hinder him, 

Yet pile delays ere he achieve so much, 39s 

And yet may waste the peoples of both kings ! 



THE ^NEID. 221 



Such be the cost, in their own subjects' lives, 
At which the father and the son-in-law 
Their bargain make. Maiden, thy dower shall be 
The blood of Trojan and Rutulian ; 4°° 

Thy bridesmaid, War. Not Hecuba alone, 
Big with a torch, bore firebrands to her lord. 
Venus shall have her own again, again 
A Paris, and again the deadly flames 
Enveloping this resurrected Troy ! " 405 

Thus spake, and sought the earth, on vengeance bent. 
From the grim Furies' home and shades of hell 
She calls Alecto, mischief-hatcher, up, 
Whose happiness is in malignant strife, 
In feuds and plots and all inhuman crimes. 410 

E'en father Pluto hates the monster, nay, 
Her hell-hag sisters hate the sight of her, 
So many a face she makes, so grim her look, 
Black with so many snakes she sprouts withal ! 
Goads Juno her, as thus to her she speaks : 41s 

" O virgin child of Night, thy own aid lend, 
Lest now my honor and my fame fall hurt, 
Lest too the Trojans find their way alike 
To trick Latinus in a marriage league, 
And get the Italian borders in their grasp. 420 

E'en loving brothers thou canst arm in strife, 
Turn home to hate, and bring beneath its roof 
Blows and the torch of death. A thousand forms, 
A thousand arts of hurt thou hast. Bestir 
Thy teeming gall, break up this truce of peace, 425 
And sow the thorns of war. Let youthful blood 
Crave arms, demand and snatch them all at once." 



THE iENEID. 



Charged with the venom of the Gorgons, straight 
Alecto wends forthwith to Latium, 
To the proud palace of Laurentum's king, 430 

And silently Amata's threshold sits ; 
Who, womanlike, to fever burns with fear 
And anger 'twixt the Trojans' coming there 
And Turnus' suit. At her the hell-hag flings 
From out her slimy locks a single snake 435 

That penetrates her bosom to the heart, 
So by this devil maddened she may set 
The whole house by the ears. Beneath her robe 
And over her fair breast, it slips and glides 
With touch unfelt, and breathes its viper's breath, 440 
While never dreams the queen what crazes her. 
About her neck a massive twisted chain 
Of gold it seems ; as her long fillet-band, 
It catches up her hair ; along her limbs 
It slickly shoots. And while the infection, caught 445 
From its exuding venom, thrills her nerves 
And makes her marrow smart, nor reason yet 
Is wholly fevered in her breast, she speaks 
Still gently and as mothers wont to plead, 
Sobbing to think her child must wed with Troy : 450 
" And wilt thou force Lavinia to wed, 
Her father thou, these Trojan vagabonds ? 
Hast thou no pity for thyself, thy child, 
Or me, a mother of her daughter reft 
By this perfidious robber, who will fly 455 

And put to sea quick as the wind blows north ? 
In Sparta was't not thus the Phrygian swain 
Crept in, who spirited away to Troy 



THE iENEID. 



223 



Ledaean Helen ? This thy solemn troth, 
Thine old love for thine own, the right hand pledged « 6 ° 
So oft by thee to Turnus, kin of thine ! 
Tf't be a son-in-law of foreign blood 
Thou seek'st for Latium, if such be fate, 
And thy sire Faunus' bidding be the law, 
Meseems that every land is foreign land 465 

That from our sceptre lies apart and free. 
'Tis so the gods intend. Nay, if we trace 
The springs of Turnus' lineage, then were 
Acrisius and Inachus among 

His sires : his birth-place was the heart of Greece. " v° 
With prayers like these she pleads in vain \ and when 
She sees Latinus standing firm, while deep 
Within her breast the serpent's frenzying sting 
Strikes in and shoots through every vein, then mad 
Indeed, chased by distorted fantasies, 475 

Frantic beyond all bounds, through that great town 
She storms. So sometimes 'neath the twisted lash 
Flies round the top : boys, busy with their sport, 
In wide rings drive it in some vacant lot : 
Sped by the thong it circles round and round : 4 So 
The thoughtless crowd, the beardless urchins stare 
In wonder at the whirling wood, and put 
Their very souls into their blows. Such, too, 
The speed at which throughout the city's midst, 
And mid the fiery populace, the queen * 8 5 

Is driven. Nay, e'en into the woods she flies, 
Under pretence of Bacchus' influence, 
To do a greater wrong, and folly worse 
Attempt. There in the coverts of the hills 



224 



THE .EXE 1 1). 



She hides her child, that so she may outwit 490 

The Trojans of the match, the nuptials stay. 

" Hail, Bacchus ! " is her cry. "Thou dost alone," 

She shouts, " deserve the maid. Be it for thee 

She bears thy graceful sceptre, dances round 

Thy path, and dallies with thy sacred locks." 495 

The panic spreads. Their hearts to fury wrought, 
One frenzy drives the women all at once 
New roofs to seek. Now have they fled their homes, 
Baring their breasts and tresses to the winds ; 
While others fill the air with fitful shrieks, s°o 

And robed in skins wield spears with vine leaves 

wreathed. 
Midst them the mad queen lifts her flaming torch; 
Never at rest her blood-shot eyes, she shouts 
The marriage vows of Turnus and her child. 
Sudden and wild she cries : " Where'er ye are, 505 
Ye Latin women, hear ! If any love 
For poor Amata fires your faithful hearts, 
If gnaws the jealousy for mother's right, 
Let loose your locks and revel ye with me ! " 
Such was the queen, whom pricked with Bacchus' 
spur, 510 

Alecto through the savage wilderness 
And through the woods kept driving to and fro. 

Soon as she deems the frenzy keen enough, 
And all Latinus' plans and home distraught, 
The ill-omened witch mounts on her dusky wings 5 15 
And seeks the bold Rutulian's city, built 
By Danae and Grecian colonists 
By stormy south winds thither blown, 'tis said. 



THE iENEID. 



225 



Ardea the place was by our fathers called ; 
To-day the grand name Ardea still remains, 520 

Though fortune hath departed thence. 'Twas here, 
Under his lofty roof and 'neath the black 
Of midnight, Turnus lay at rest. Off flings 
Alecto her fierce look, her fury's shape, 
And an old woman's face puts on ; she ploughs 525 
Her rugged front with wrinkles : with a band 
She ties her hoary hair, and round it wreathes 
An olive-branch. She turns to Calybe, 
Priestess in Juno's temple, old and bent. 
Before tlie chieftain's eyes, she speaks him thus : 530 
" Turnus, wilt thou endure all toils for naught ? 
Or let the sceptre that should be thine own, 
To Trojan squatters by a pen-stroke pass ? 
The king forbids the match, the dowry thou 
His kinsman seek'st denies, and would his realm 535 
Transmit to heir of foreign blood. Unthanked 
And mocked, up now and perils dare ! Up, up ! 
And rout the Tyrrhene ranks \ but shelter thou 
The Latins in the fold of peace ! 'Twas thus 
Almighty Juno bade me boldly speak, 540 

Whilst thou at night wert resting peacefully. 
Rise then and proudly bid thy young men arm 
And from thy gates go forward to the war • 
Exterminate the Trojan chiefs who root 
On the fair river's bank, and burn their boats 545 

From decoration down to very keel ! 
It is the mighty will of heaven that bids. 
Let king Latinus, if he still refuse 
To keep his word or fix the marriage, feel 
15 



22 6 THE .ENEID. 



And test at last the might of Turnus' arm." 55° 

The youth but mocked the witch, and thus began: 
" Not, as thou think'st, the tale had 'scaped my ears 
That barks have anchored in the Tiber's bed. 
Conjure me not such terrors. Juno ne'er 
Unmindful is of me. Old age, good dame, 555 

Worn to decay and barren of the truth, 
Hath vexed thy timid soul with senseless fears, 
And cheats thee mid the armaments of kings 
With false alarms. Thine be the charge to keep 
The temple and the statues of the gods : 560 

Let men, who bear the brunt, make war and*peace." 

At this Alecto's anger flashes fire. 
E'en while he speaks a sudden tremor thrills 
His limbs : his eyes stand fixed, so thick with snakes 
The Fury hisses, and so terrible 565 

Her face appears. Darting a lightning glance, 
She drove him back, eager and struggling hard 
To speak her more. Up from her hair she reared 
Twin serpents, lashed her scourge, and spake from lips 
Afoam with wrath : "Behold me now, whom age, 570 
Worn to decay and barren of the truth, 
Cheats mid the armaments of kings with false 
Alarms ! Look thou on these ! From the abode 
Of the Dire Sisters I am hither come. 
Battle and death I bear within my hand." 575 

So spake, and hurled her torch against the youth, 
And thrust its lurid smoking flames beneath 
His breast. A mighty fear breaks through -his sleep. 
Sweat starts at every bone and joint, and streams 
From every pore. Frenzied he raves for arms. 580 



THE ^NEID. 



227 



Guards to his palace and his bed he calls. 

The thirst for fight, the fell insanity 

Of war, but most his anger, crazes him. 

So with loud roar a fire of fagots curls 

Under the swaying kettle's ribs : up leaps 5S5 

The water with the heat : hisses within 

The liquid mass, and bubbles out in foam 

And vapor \ now it overflows, and forth 

Into the air the steam's dark cloud ascends. 

Then orders he his chiefest warriors go 590 

To king Latinus who hath broke the peace, 

And bids for war prepare, shield Italy, 

And from its borders drive the foe, himself 

Alone a match for Troy and Latium both. 

So bade he, and the gods invoked. Then sprang, 595 

As each would be the first, the Rutuli 

To arms, moved by his matchless grace of form, 

His youth, or by his royal pedigree, 

Or that his hand had wrought such glorious deeds. 

While Turnus with this stirring spirit, fills 6o ° 

The Rutuli against the Trojans, fares 
Alecto on her hellish wings. She marks, 
For mischief fresh, the spot where on the shore 
The fair lulus hunts with snare and steed. 
A sudden madness quick the infernal hag 6o 5 

Breathes in the hounds ; with the familiar scent 
Their nostrils pricks, and fires them chase the stag. 
'Twas thus all woes began. Such was the spark 
That sent the rustics flaming into war. 

A stag of noble shape and branching horns 6l ° 

There was, that, stolen from its mother's dugs, 



22 8 THE ^ENEID. 



Tyrrheus, the keeper of the royal herds 

And fields, and Tyrrheus' sons had made a pet. 

Their sister Sylvia gave it all her care ; 

It answered to her call ; its horns she decked 6i s 

With wreaths of tender flowers, sleeked its wild coat, 

And bathed it in the purest streams. Her hand 

It knew, and at its mistress' table fed. 

It wandered through the woods, yet ever home 

Early or late to the wont threshold came. 62 ° 

Straying too far, lulus hunting there, 

'Twas startled by his maddened hounds, e'en while 

By chance it swam adown the stream, and cooled 

Its heat upon the verdant bank. Inspired 

With eager thirst for praise, lulus shot 6 *5 

From his own straining bow the shaft, nor fate 

Did fail the hand that else had missed its mark. 

With heavy thud through flank and belly driven 

The arrow came. Then fled the wounded beast 

For refuge to its well-known home, and ran 6 3° 

Bellowing into its stall. Dripping with blood, 

It made the whole roof echo with its plaint, 

Like one who cries for help. Beating her arms 

And hands, the sister Sylvia instantly 

Shouts, Help ! and calls the hardy rustics in. 6 35 

They come at once — for silent in the woods 

The avenging Fury lurks — armed with burnt stakes 

Or heavy knotted clubs : whate'er each finds 

At hand, rage turns it to an arm of war. 

Tyrrheus who happened then, the wedges in, 6 4° 

Be cleaving into fours an oak, calls up 

His clan, and breathing fury grasps his axe. 



THE iENEID. 



229 



Then the fierce demon, seeing from her post 
A chance to hurt, squats on the stable's ridge. 
From off the roof she sounds the rustic blast, 6 *5 
And through a bent horn swells her hellish voice 
Till the whole forest trembles, and the w T oods 
Loud echo back. Hears it Diana's lake 
Far off ; hears it the pale sulphureous flow 
Of river Nar ; hears it Velinus' source, 6 s° 

While frightened mothers to their- bosoms press 
Their babes. Whither that dreadful trumpet calls, 
The hardy farmers at its summons throng 
From every side, their weapons in their hands. 
Nor less the Trojan warriors burst their gates 6 55 

And rally to lulus' aid. They form 
In battle lines. No rustic bout with staves 
Fire-hardened and with cudgels-tough is this. 
With mortal steel they fight • the deadly crop 
That bristles far and wide is naked swords ; 66 ° 

Their sunstruck helmets gleam and toss the light 
Back to the clouds. So, when the wind begins 
To blow, the ripples foam ; but speedily 
The sea uplifts, higher and higher flings its waves, 
Then leaps from deepest deep against the stars. 66 5 

Then falls young Almon, Tyrrheus' eldest son, 
Struck by a shrill shaft at the battle front. 
It hits and wounds him in the throat, and chokes 
With blood the liquid journey of his voice, 
The slender breath of life. Around him falls 6 7° 

Full many a hero. Old Galaesus falls, 
Richest in land and justest he of all 
The Italians, e'en while pressing 'twixt the lines 



2 ^o THE ^ENEID. 



To stay the fight. Five flocks, five herds he had 
And with a hundred ploughshares turned the sod. 6 7S 

While thus afield the uncertain battle fares, 
Her promise kept, now that the war is red 
With blood and at the onset Death is in, 
The fiend flies Italy and, scaling heaven, 
Exultingly and loud speaks Juno thus : 6So 

" Lo, discord wrought for thee, and battle grim ! 
Xow bid them league as friends or treaty make, 
Troy thus besprinkled with Italian blood ! 
Nay more I'll do, if unrelenting still 
Thou bid'st. With rumors I will prick to fight 68 5 
Their neighbor towns ; with war's mad fire will I 
Fever their souls to rally to the aid 
Of either side, and barb the fields with arms." 
But Juno answered back : " Enough of wile 
And terror ; war hath taken root ; and fares &*> 

The battle hand to hand. Blood hath afresh 
Spattered the arms that chanced the first to clash. 
Be such the nuptials, such the marriage songs 
For Venus' paragon of sons, or king 
Latinus' self, to celebrate ! For thee, ^5 

The Father Ruler of Olympus' top 
Would have thee roam no more in upper air. 
Back to thy haunts ! If fortune hence attend 
Our plot, I will myself assume command.'' 
So Juno spake. On wings that hissed with snakes 7°° 
The other rose, then fading from the light, 
Back to Cocytus' deep abyss went down. 

Close at the lofty mountain's foot, midway 
Of Italy, there is a noble spot, 



THE ^NEID. 231 



Well-known to fame from shore to shore — the vale 705 

Amsanctus. Gloomed in thick foliage, the woods 

On both sides shut it in, and in its midst 

A brawling stream in eddies whirls, and roars 

Along its rocks. A frightful cave is here : 

Hence cruel Pluto's blasts : here Hell's huge maw 710 

Gapes through and opes its pestilential jaws. 

Through these the Fury — hideous monster — sinks 

And of her burden rids both earth and heaven. 

Nor less queen Juno to the bitter end 
Forces apace the war. Pour each and all 715 

The peasants in from battle-field to town ; 
Teil of the slain • of the boy Almon speak, 
And of Galaesus' cloven skull ; invoke 
The deities, and on Latinus call. 
Turnus is there, and to their charge of fire 7 2 ° 

And murder adds the terror of his own : — 
To wit, the Trojans in the realm have share; 
The Trojan and the Latin race do mix; 
And he is banished from the palace gate. 
They too, whose mothers mad with Bacchus leap, 725 
And through the dark woods dance, Amata's name 
Still potent, gather in on every 7 hand 
And shout for war. In spite of Heaven's decrees, 
Spite of the omens, all as one demand 
War to the death. At king Latinus' gates, 730 

The eager Latins throng. He, like a rock 
That ocean cannot move, resists them still 
Like some sea-cliff, beat by the mighty storm, 
The ceaseless billows lashing it, that stands 
In its own weight secure ; in vain its reefs 735 



232 



THE ^NEID. 



And breakers froth with foam, and from its edge 

The bruised sea-weed is tossed. But when no power 

Is his to stay their mad designs, and all 

Goes wild at Juno's nod, upon the gods 

And on the void of heaven the patriarch calls, 740 

And cries : "Alas ^ fate crushes us ; we bend 

Before the storm ; and ye, poor wretches, yet 

Shall pay the price of sacrilege in blood. 

Turnus, thou pest, the penalty of woe 

Shall wait thee hence : too late will be the prayers' 74s 

In which thou then shalt kneel unto the gods : 

Thou robb'st me of a happy death, just when 

My rest is won, and I, all dangers past, 

Am making port." He ceased : then shut him in 

His palace, and laid down the reins of state. 750 

In Latin Italy a custom was, 
Which e'er the Alban cities sacred held 
When entering upon war : imperial Rome 
Preserves it still, whether the purpose be 
With Getae, Hyrcans, or Arabians 755 

To wage heart-rending battle, or to march 
To Ind, the sun pursue, and back demand 
The standards from the Parthians. Two gates 
Hath War — so runs the legend — sanctified 
Both by religion and the awe grim Mars 760 

Inspires. Bolt them a hundred brazen bars 
And everlasting ribs of iron : nor e'er 
Their keeper Janus from the threshold goes. 
Whene'er the Senators resolve on war, 
In augural robe and Sabine girdle garbed 765 

The consul doth himself these grating gates 



THE iENEID. 233 



Unbar; himself to battle calls-; while all 
The other fighting-men respond ; and loud 
Their hoarse assent the brazen trumpets sound. 
E'en thus was then Latinus bid declare 770 

War 'gainst the Trojans, and those awful doors 
Throw back. The patriarch from the touch recoiled, 
Fled turning from the loathsome task, and hid 
Within the dark recesses of his courts. 
Then Juno, queen of gods, from heaven flew down, 775 
With her own hand the tardy portals struck, 
And burst on swinging hinge War's iron gates. 

The heart of Italy, till then unmoved 
And slumbering, burns. Afoot they haste to camp, 
Or mounted gallop in a cloud of dust, 780 

All hot for arms. They rub their polished shields, 
Their shining spears with lumps of fat, and grind 
Their axes on the stone. They glow to lift 
The standard and to hear the trumpet's sound. 
Nay, five great cities on their anvils forge 785 

Their swords afresh, — Atina in her might, 
Proud Tibur, Ardea, Crustumerium, 
Antemnae with its towers. The hollow helm 
To guard the head they shape, and frame-work weave 
Of willows for their shields. Corslets of brass, 790 
Thin greaves of silver-leaf they hammer out. 
No honor hence to sickle or to plough, 
Nor thought of furrow more ; but at the forge 
They temper fresh the ancestral blade. The horn 
Hath sounded now ; the die of war is cast. 795 

Here, who his helmet snatches as he runs 
From out his door : there, who the impatient steed 



234 



THE ^NEID. 



Yokes to the chariot-pole, dons shield and mail 
Of triple gold, and girds his faithful sword. 

Ye Muses, open Helicon, and now 8o ° 

Inspire my song. What kings were roused to war ! 
Who led the ranks that filled the battle-fields ! 
Whose were the arms that shone ; what warriors were 
E'en then the flower of good Italia's soil ! 
For, Muses, ye remember and can tell : 8 °s 

To us scarce filters down fame's fainting breath. 

First in the field, despiser of the gods, 
The bold Mezentius from Etruria's shores 
His army leads. Lausus is at his side, 
His son — none other handsomer than he, 8l ° 

Save Turnus of Laurentum — Lausus who 
Horse-tamer was, and conqueror in the chase. 
In vain — worthy to heir a happier realm, 
A better father than Mezentius — 
A thousand men he from Argylla brings. 8l 5 

Next them, the brawny Aventinus, son 
Of brawny Hercules, parades afield 
His chariot decked with palms of triumph won, 
And his victorious steeds : upon his shield 
His sire's device he wears — a hundred snakes, 82 ° 
A hydra with a hundred serpent-heads. 
Within the woods upon Mount Aventine, 
A woman in the embraces of a god, 
The priestess Rhea stealthily gave birth 
To him, what time the victor Hercules 82 5 

From slaying Geryon came to Italy 
And washed his Spanish herd in Tiber's flood. 
His soldiers in their hands to battle bear 



THE ^ENEID. 



235 



Javelins and deadly pikes, and fight with swords 

Polished and sharp, and with the Sabine darts. 8 3° 

Around him flung a mighty lion's skin, 

That with its bristling shag and glittering teeth 

Surmounts his head, he strides afoot. 'Twas thus 

This savage entered at the palace door, 

His shoulders cased in that Herculean garb. 8 35 

Catillus and bold Coras, Grecian stock, 
Twin brothers, next leave Tibur's walls — a town 
After Tiburtus called, their brother's name. 
Upon the battle's edge, where thickest is 
The fight, they stalk. So from high mountain-top 8 4° 
Move down the cloud-born Centaurs twain, and leave 
Behind them Omole and Othrys' snows, 
Swift striding on : huge forests yield to give 
Them room : loud crash the branches 'neath their feet. 

Nor wanting there king Caeculus, who laid 8 45- 

Praeneste's walls, and whom all legends say 
Was got by Vulcan mid the fields and flocks, 
And in a fire-place found. A rustic horde 
March in loose order in his train — whoe'er 
Dwell on Preneste's height, or on the fields 8 5° 

Of Gabii where Juno's temple is, 
Or on the bank of icy Anien, 
Or on the Hernician fastnesses that flash 
With waterfalls — whome'er, Anagnia, 
Thy wealth, or, father Amasenus, thine, 8 55 

Doth feed. Not arms enough for all, nor clang 
Of shields or car : the greater part sling balls 
Of livid lead : some brandish javelins, 
With two in either hand : upon the head 



236 THE .ENEID. 



A tawny wolf-skin cap : with left foot bare 86 ° 

They step, an untanned boot upon the right. 

Messapus next, tamer of steeds, and son 
Of Neptune, fated nor by fire nor sword 
To die, unsheaths his blade, and sudden calls 
To arms his people who have slumbered long, 86 5 
His forces long unused to war. With him, 
Fescennia's line and the Falisci true, 
And they w T ho dwell along Soracte's heights, 
Or the Flavinian fields, or lake and hill 
Of Ciminus, or in Capena's groves. 8 7° 

Singing the praises of their king, they march 
In even ranks : as when the snow-white swans 
Fly back from pasturing through the melting clouds, 
And stretch their necks to sing their measure shrill, 
While river and far-echoing Asian marsh 8 75 

Resound. One would have thought them, not indeed 
So many mingling squadrons armed for fight, 
But some aerial cloud of screaming birds 
That from the sea were flocking to the shore. 

Lo ! of old Sabine blood his mighty host, 88 ° 

A mighty host himself, doth Clausus lead, 
From whom are now diffused through Italy 
The Claudian tribe and family, e'er since 
The Sabines have in Rome had part. With him 
Come Amiternum's crowded ranks ; the old 88 s 

Quirites ; all Eretum's soldiery ; 
All from Mutusca's olive-bearing soil ; 
All they whose home is in Nomentum town ; 
Who on Velinus' dewy fields abide, 
Or Tetrica's rough rocks, Severus' top, 8 9° 



THE ^NEID. 237 



Casperia, Foruli, Himella's banks \ 
Or drink from Tiber's stream, or Fabaris ; 
Or whom the icy Nursia sends, besides 
Hortanum's quotas, and the Latin tribes, 
And all whome'er the Allia — woful name — 8 95 

Asunder parts and flows between. Not more 
The waves that roll on Libya's sea, when fierce 
Orion plunges in its wintry tide \ 
Nor thicker scorch in June the ears of corn 
On Hermus' meads or Lycia's golden fields. 900 

Shields clang; earth startled trembles 'neath their 
tread. 

Halesus next, of Agamemnon's race, 
Hating the name of Troy, yokes to the car 
His steeds, and hastes a thousand fighting-men 
To Turnus' aid. His followers they, who vex 90s 
The Massic glebe so fruitful of the vine, — 
They whom the Auruncan sires from their high hills, 
Or, from their coasts hard by, the Sidicines 
Have sent, — they who have Cales left behind — 
Who dwell beside Vulturnus' reedy stream, — 910 
The rough Saticulan as well, and troops 
Of Osci. Pointed darts their weapons are, 
Fitted, as is their custom,, to the wrist 
With a light cord. A small round shield defends 
Their left: their swords are curved for combat 
close." 915 

Nor shalt thou, CEbalus, go forth unsung, 
Whom, so they say, the nymph Sebethis bore 
To Telon, when, an old man then, he reigned 
In Caprea, the Teleboan's realm. 



238 THE ^ENEID. 



But not contented with his father's lands, 920 

The son had now, to do him homage, brought 

The Sarrasts and the plains by Sarnus washed, 

And who in Batulum and Rufrae dwell, 

Or on Celenna's fields, or where look down 

Abella's apple-bearing heights — trained they 92s 

In Teuton fashion all to hurl the dart; 

Their helms the stripping of the cork-tree bark ; 

Their brazen swords and bucklers glittering. 

Thee, Ufens, famed in story and for arms, 
By fortune blessed, have Nursae's mountain-peaks 930 
To battle sent, — thy clan the Equicoli, 
Rare rough, wont in the forest much to hunt, 
And living on a rugged soil. They till 
The earth with arms at hand, and e'er delight 
To mass fresh spoils and live by plundering. 935 

Nay, e'en Maruvium's priest, brave Umbro, comes 
At king Archippus' bidding, with his helm 
Wreathed with auspicious olive-leaves. 'Twas he 
Who could, with touch or magic-spell, on snake 
Or poison-breathing hydra slumber cast, 940 

And still its rage : its bite he had the art 
To heal : but stab of Trojan spear he had 
No power to cure. No slumber-song, nor herb 
Plucked on the Marsi's hills, 'gainst such a wound 
Availed him aught. Angitia's groves have mourned 94s 
Thy death ; the crystal waves of Fucinus, 
Its placid lake, over thy fall have wept. 

Came also to the battle Virbius, 
Son of Hippolytus — his fairest son — 
Sent by his native town Aricia. 95<> 



THE iENEID. 



239 



Brilliant he was, trained in Egeria's groves 
And by the borders of the lake, where stood 
Diana's opulent and kindly fane. 
As goes the tale, after Hippolytus, 
Through his step-mother's wiles, was dragged and 
killed 955 

By frightened steeds, and expiated thus 
In his own blood his father's wrongs, — recalled 
To life by Paean herbs and Dian's care — 
He to the starry skies came back again 
And to this upper breath of heaven. Then 'twas 960 
The almighty Father, angry that to life 
Should mortal from the shades of death return, 
With his own hand the thunderbolt did fling 
At Esculapius, author of the art 

Of medicine, and to the shades of hell 96s 

Did hurl him down. But good Diana hid 
Hippolytus in some sequestered nook; 
Then took him to the nymph Egeria's grove 
And gave him her, there in Italian woods 
Companionless to spend his days, unknown 970 

To fame, his very name to Virbius changed. 
Hence 'tis, no horse may e'er Diana's fane 
Or sacred groves approach, because his steeds, 
By the sea-monsters terrified, o'erturned 
The chariot and this youth. Yet none the less 975 
The son his fiery coursers o'er the plain 
Doth urge, and in his car to battle speed. 

Himself the noblest figure mid his chiefs, 
Head taller than the rest, strides Turnus, spear 
In hand. His high helm streams with triple crest, 980 



2 4 o THE ^NEID. 



Upon its front Chimaera vomiting 

The fires of ^Etna from her jaws, and e'er 

More wild her rage, and mad her awful flames, 

As fiercer grow the fight and flow of blood. 

Io, her horns thrown up, is carved in gold 985 

Upon the shield he wears a-left — the girl 

Already now a heifer with her coat 

Of hair. A rare device it is, for here 

Is also Argus, keeper of the maid, 

While from an urn, embossed upon the shield, 990 

Her father Inachus his flood pours out. 

A cloud of footmen follow; everywhere 

Gather the hosts that seem a mass of shields ; 

The Argive youth ; the Auruncan phalanxes ; 

The Rutuli ; Sicanian veterans ; 99s 

Labici with their bright embellished shields ; 

Sacranian troops : who, Tiber, plough thy heights, 

Or the hallowed borders of Numicus ; they 

Who with the ploughshare turn Rutulian slopes 

And Circe's mount ; they o'er whose fields preside IOO ° 

The Anxur Jove, and, glad in her green groves, 

Feronia; they from where the dismal lake 

Of Satura spreads out, or Ufens cold 

Flows through the valleys and is lost at sea. 

The Volsci's warrior-queen Camilla next IO °5 

Comes leading after these her troop of horse, 
Her ranks in brazen armor glittering. 
Not wont to distaff or Minerva's toils, 
The maid is trained to bear the brunt of war, 
And on her feet outstrip the very wind, , IOI ° 

Whether along the topmost blades of grass, 



THE ^NEID. 24) 



Scarce touched, she flies nor breaks beneath her step 
The tender shoots, or o'er mid-ocean skims, 
Poised on the billow's edge, nor with its dew 
Flecks her swift feet. To gaze upon her, youth IOI 5 
From farm and city pour, while women crowd 
To look, and as they see her move, they gape 
Amazed, — so royally her purple robe 
Across her shining shoulder sweeps, her hair 
Caught up with golden clasps, — so gracefully 102 ° 
She wears her Lycian quiver and her spear, 
A shepherd's shaft of myrtle tipped with steel. 



16 



EIGHTH BOOK. 

OCARCE Turnus from Laurentum's citadel 
^^ Had thrown the battle sign, and loud had rung 
The trumpet's call to rouse the fiery steed, 
And wake to arms, ere every heart was fired. 
All Latium panted with alarm, and stirred 5 

The fever in the blood of youth. The chiefs, 
Messapus, Ufens, and Mezentius 
Despiser of the gods, from every hand 
Their quotas draft, and of its tillers rob 
The soil afar and near. Goes Venulus, IO 

Sent to the city of great Diomed, 
To ask for help and bear to him the tale 
That Trojans camp in Latium; that there 
^Eneas with a fleet hath come and brought 
His beaten gods, claiming that fate doth mark *§ 

Him for a king ; and that full many a tribe 
Hath made alliance with this man from Troy, 
Till far and wide through Latium his name 
Is growing great. Clearer to Diomed 
Than Turnus king, or king Latinus, might 2 ° 

Appear what meant ^Eneas by these steps — 
What war-wage, went all well, he sought to win. 
Through Latium thus. The Trojan hero saw 
It all. Tossed on a mighty tide of cares, 
Now here, now there he turns his rapid thought ; 2 5 
Takes up each thread, yet comprehends the whole : 



THE ^NEID. 



243 



As when the sunshine or the moonlight clear, 
Dancing on water in a brazen vat, 
Glints everywhere, now sparkles up in air, 
Now strikes the fret-work of the very roof. 30 

'Twas night. All breathing things the wide world 
o'er, 
Tired birds and flocks, lay buried in deep sleep. 
Father ^Eneas on the river bank 
Lay 'neath the heaven's chill canopy, heart-sick 
At thought of cruel war, and stretched his limbs 35 
In slumber late. To him a vision came : 
The Genius of the spot, old Tiber, rose 
From the calm stream amid the poplar leaves, 
Veiled in a sea-green mantle's gauzy folds, 
A crown of reeds enshadowing his hair, 40 

And spake these words that put all fear to flight : 
" O born of stock divine, who from the foe 
Dost Troy restore to us, and for all time 
Preservest Ilium, — expected long 
On the Laurentian soil and Latin fields, — 45 

Thy destined home, thy fixed abode is here ! 
Stay not thy hand, nor quake at threat of war. 
The wrath-blast of the gods hath all gone down. 
E'en now — nor think it but a dream — beneath 
The holm-trees by the river, thou shalt find 50 

At rest upon the ground a huge white sow, 
Reclining with a litter newly born 
Of thirty white pigs at her teats. That spot 
Shall be thy city's site, the sure surcease 
Of all thy toils. And after that, when thrice 55 

Ten years shall come and go, Ascanius 



244 



THE ^NEID. 



Shall Alba found — illustrious that name ! 

I sing no doubtful strain. Hark, while in brief 

I tell thee how successfully to do 

The work that presses. The Arcades, a race 6o 

From Pallas sprung, who hither with their king 

Evander came, and 'neath his banner marched, 

Have picked a site, and in .the mountains built 

The city Pallanteum, naming it 

For Pallas, a progenitor of theirs. - 6 s 

They with the Latins ever are at war. 

Ally them to thy camp, and league with them. 

Nay, I will thither guide thee by my banks 

And current sure, till gliding up the stream, 

Thy oars shall bear thee there. Thou goddess' son, 70 

Up ! up ! and when the stars begin»to pale, 

To Juno offer thou a fitting prayer ; 

With suppliant vows o'ercome her hate and threats. 

Me pay no honors till the field is won. 

I am that azure Tiber whom thou see'st 75 

Now sweeping full and free along these banks, — 

Heaven on no stream more gratefully looks down — 

Parting the teeming fields, where my proud home, 

Mistress of haughty states, shall one day rise." 

He spake, then melted in the watery deep, 8o 

And to the bottom sank. Slumber and night 
Forsake ^Eneas. Up he springs ; his face 
Turned where the dawn begins to flush the sky, 
He reverently in his hollow hands 
Cups water from the stream, and cries to heaven : 8 5 
"Ye nymphs, Laurentian nymphs, whence rivers 
spring ! 



THE iENEID. 245 



Thou, father Tiber, with thy sacred flood, 
Help, and from harm ^Eneas save at last ! 
Whate'er the fount from whence thou stream'st ; 

whate'er 
The land through which so beauteously thou flow'st, 90 
Because thou pitiest our woes, thou shalt 
Be ever honored by my gifts and praise ! 
Crowned monarch of Italian waters thou, 
Be near, and quick confirm thy prophecies ! " 

So prays, then picks two biremes from the fleet, 95 
Fits them with oars, and arms his men, when lo ! 
Before their eyes a sudden wondrous sign ! 
They see a white sow, with her litter white, 
Stretched where the forest meets the grassy shore. 
Pious ^Eneas sacrifices her IO ° 

To thee, thou mightiest Juno, yea to thee ; 
The sacred wares he brings, and bears the sow 
And all her litter to the altar-front. 

All that long night the Tiber had becalmed 
Its swelling tide and, ebbing silently, io 5 

So stayed its flow that, like some gentle pool 
Or peaceful lake, the ripples on its face 
Are smoothed till with no effort glides the oar. 
Quick then, the journey once begun, they speed 
With merry shouts, as o'er a sea of oil ,IQ 

The boats glide on. In wonder at the sight, 
The very current and the unused woods 
Gaze as the warriors' bucklers gleam afar, 
And up the stream float by the emblazoned craft. 
All night and day they lean upon the oar; 11[ 5 

Bend after bend they pass • shoot 'neath the boughs 



246 THE ^ENEID. 



Of myriad trees ; and on the glassy deep 
The greenwood's shadowed foliage they cut. 

The blazing sun mid-heaven had scaled, when they 
Afar saw walls and towers and scattered homes, I2 ° 
Which now the might of Rome high as the stars 
Hath reared, then but Evander's petty realm. 
Quick to the shore they turn and near the town. 

By chance the Arcadian king grave honors paid 
That day within a grove outside the walls I2 5 

To mighty Hercules and to the gods. 
With him Pallas his son, and all the chiefs 
Among his warriors, and his senate small 
Were offering gifts. Still on the altar steamed 
The uncooled blood. But when the towering boats J 3° 
They saw glide onward through the shady woods, 
The men at rest upon their silent oars, 
The sudden sight alarmed them, and all sprang 
From the deserted board. But Pallas bold 
Forbade them interrupt the solemn feast, *35 

Caught up his spear and flew to meet the risk 
Alone. From off a fronting knoll he cried : 
" Warriors, what cause is it compels you dare 
A way ye ,know not ? Whither do ye go ? 
What is your race ? From whence your home ? And 
bring J 4° 

Ye hither peace or war ? " Thus then replied 
Father ^Eneas from the lofty stern, 
Extending with his hand the olive-branch 
Of peace : " Thou see'st the sons of Troy, and arms 
That fight the Latins, — exiles whom they drive f 45 
In haughtiness of war away. We seek 



THE ^ENEID. 



247 



Evander. Bear him this, and tell him Troy's 
Picked chiefs have come to ask a league of arms." 

At name so glorious Pallas stood amazed. 
" Come forth, whoe'er thou art ; unto my sire x 5° 

Speak face to face and to our homes be guest." 
With this he to JEneas gave his hand, 
Grasped his, and clung to it. Into the grove 
They go, and leave the river bank. Then doth 
^Eneas speak the king with kindly words : J 55 

" Best of the sons of Greece, fate bids me beg 
Thy grace, and offer thee this olive-branch 
White-wreathed with wool. I counted it, indeed, 
No risk, that thou wert of Arcadian birth, 
A leader of the Greeks, or yet akin l6 ° 

Unto the two Atridae's native stock. 
For mine own worth, the god's dread oracles, 
The kinship of our sires, thy world-wide fame, 
Have us allied and hither brought me, glad 
'Twas fated so. Came Dardanus to Troy, l6 5 

Its sire and founder, born, so say the Greeks, 
Out of Electra, Atlas' daughter. Her 
Great Atlas got, who on his shoulder lifts 
The arch of heaven. Thy sire is Mercury, 
Whom Maia on Cyllene's icy top *7° 

Gave birth. But Atlas too was Maia's sire, 
If true the tales we hear, — Atlas who lifts 
The starry skies. So from one blood alike 
Thy stock and mine both spring. In this my trust, 
With embassies or diplomatic test J 7S 

I have not sounded thee, but come myself 
A suppliant to thy doors, taking my life 



248 THE .ENEID. 



In my own hands. The same Rutulian clan 

That wage fierce war with thee, pursue me too. 

If me they once expel, they deem naught else l8 ° 

Than that all Italy shall bend its neck 

Beneath their yoke, lords of the soil from where 

The sea above to where the sea below 

Doth wash. Accept and give the plighted word ! 

Brave hearts are ours that fear not war, souls nerved l8 5 

For any fate, and warriors tried and proved." 

E'en while JEneas spake, long ere he ceased, 
Evander scanned him top to toe, his face, 
His eyes, and briefly answered back : " How glad, 
Bravest of Trojans, do I recognize ^ 

And welcome thee ! How I recall the speech, 
The voice, the countenance of thy great sire, 
Anchises ! For I mind me, Priam once, 
Son of Laomedon, upon his way 
To Salamis to see Hesione J 95 

His sister's realms, pushed farther on and came 
To Arcadia's icy bounds. 'Twas when youth's down 
Just budded on my cheeks, and wonderingly 
I gazed upon the Trojan chiefs, gazed most 
On Priam's self. Yet taller than them all, 2 °° 

Anchises strode. With a boy's zest my heart 
Did burn to speak the hero and to clasp 
His right hand with my own. I crossed his path 
And led him eagerly to Pheneus' walls. 
He when he went away made me accept 2 °5 

A quiver bright of Lycian arrows full, 
A mantle interwrought with golden threads, 
And two gold curbs that now my Pallas has. 



THE ^ENEID. 249 



So then I league with thine the hand thou seek'st, 

And early as to-morrow's dawn shall come 2I0 

To earth again, I'll let thee happy go 

With soldiers reinforced, and with supplies 

Will aid thee. Meantime, since ye here as friends 

Have come, unite with us and celebrate 

This annual sacred feast 'twere sacrilege 2I 5 

To slight, and share at once in comrades' fare." 

This said, he bids re-spread the board and bring 
Again the cups they took away, and seats 
His guests around him on the grassy turf. 
^Eneas he distinguishes with couch 22 ° 

And shaggy lion-skin, inviting him 
Upon the rustic throne to sit him down. 
The priest and the chief warriors vie to bring 
Great roasts of beef and baskets full of bread, 
And serve them bow r ls of wine. On a whole chine 22 5 
And consecrated entrails of an ox, 
^Eneas and his Trojan comrades feast. 
Their hunger fled and appetites supplied, 
Thus King Evander speaks : " These solemn rites, 
This formal feast, this altar to a god 2 3° 

So great, no superstition vain or false 
Unto our ancient faith hath laid on us. 
Preserved from awful perils, Trojan guest, 
We pay and we renew the thanks we owe. 
Nay, see this boulder hanging from the cliff ! 2 35 

See how the rocks are scattered far and wide, 
How mountain fastnesses stand desolate, 
And tumbling cliffs drag mighty ruin down ! 
A cave was here, sunk to enormous depth 



THE .ENEID. 



Beyond the sunlight's reach, inhabited 2 -*° 

By the grim-visaged Cacus — man and beast. 

E'er steamed the ground with fresh-spilled blood ; and 

nailed 
Over his savage door hung human heads, 
Pallid to ghastliness. The monster's sire 
Was Vulcan, whose dark lurid flames he belched, 2 -*5 
As his huge bulk stalked on. Time brought at last 
The help we hoped — the advent of a god ; 
For Hercules, the great avenger, came, 
Exultant in three-bodied Geryon's death 
And in the spoils he won. His mighty bulls 2 5° 

This way the victor drove. His oxen filled 
The valley and the stream. With devilish craft, 
So evil he could leave no crime or fraud 
Undared or unattempted, Cacus stole 
From out the herd four of the biggest bulls, 2 55 

And bullocks of unusual beauty four ; 
And lest, if driven straight on, their tracks might show, 
He dragged them by the tail into his den, 
Reversed their hoof-marks from the way they went, 
And hid them in the shadow of the rocks, — 26 ° 

So might no sign lead searcher to the cave. 
Meantime, soon as the herds of Hercules 
Moved from their bait well fed, and 'gan to tramp, 
The cattle bellowed as they went their way, 
With their loud lowing filled the woods, and left 26 5 
The echo on the hills. Then bellowed back 
One of the bulls, that from the cavern roared 
And robbed the jailor Cacus of his hope. 
Rage now to fury flashed in Hercules' 



THE ^NEID. 



Black gall : he caught his weapons in his hand, 2 7° 

His heavy knotted club, and sought apace 

The cloudy mountain-top. Then saw we once 

E'en Cacus cower with terror in his eyes. 

He swifter than the east wind ran and sought 

His cave, for fear did wing his feet. There shut, 2 ?5 

He broke the chains, let fall the ponderous rock — 

Hung by his father's skill on iron links — 

And with the mass the entrance made secure. 

At hand, lo ! Hercules, to fury lashed, 

Gnashing his teeth and peering here and there, 28 ° 

Surveys each avenue. Thrice strides he round 

Mount Aventine, ablaze with rage ; thrice tries 

In vain that gate of stone ; thrice, wearied out, 

Sits resting in the gorge. A sharp flint rock, 

Cut from the crags, — the highest point in sight, 28 5 

Fit spot for ominous birds to nest — stood up 

And over-rpse the summit of the cave. 

It leaned to left from cliff-top toward the stream ; . 

And Hercules, his right hand pressing hard, 

Wrenched, loosed and tore it from its very roots, 2 9° 

And then with one quick impulse hurled it down, 

While thundered loud the air, the river banks 

Asunder flew, and the scared stream ran back. 

There full disclosed to view appeared the cave 

And monster den of Cacus, and far in 2 9b 

The gloomy arches gaped. So yawning earth, 

Split from its centre, bares the infernal depths 

And open lays the ghastly realms at which 

The gods recoil ; beneath, the huge abyss 

Is seen, and ghosts flit cowering from the glare. 300 



252 



THE ^NEID 



Caught sudden in the unexpected light, 
Pent in the rock, and roaring past all wont, 
Down on him Hercules rains showers of darts, 
To bring him every sort of missile shouts, 
And hurls in limbs of trees and monstrous rocks ; 305 
While Cacus — no escape from peril left — 
Pours, strange to tell, vast clouds of smoke from out 
His throat, wraps in its blinding folds the vault, 
Till nothing can be seen, and through the cave 
Makes thick and murky night, sparks flashing 
through 310 

Its gloom. But this but maddens Hercules : 
Straight through the fire he headlong flings him down, 
Where densest rolls the tide of smoke, and seethes 
The dusky vapor through the black abyss. s 
At once he clutches Cacus — vain the flames 31s 

He belches mid the dark — twists him in knots, 
And chokes him, griping till his eyes start out, 
And not a drop of blood is in his throat. 
Wide open then the shadowy cave is thrown, 
Its doors wrenched off, and to the light laid bare 320 
The stolen cattle and the perjurer's theft. 
Out by the feet his shapeless corse is dragged ; 
Nor can the gazers get their fill, but gloat 
Upon his frightful eyes, his half-beast breast 
Bristling with shag, the dead fire in his throat. 325 
Grateful posterity since then this feast 
Have celebrated and this day have kept. 
Potitius was the founder of these rites 
To Hercules ; the priestly offices 
Are still in the Pinarian family. 330 



THE ^ENEID. 253 



This altar he erected in the woods, 
Called ever Maxima by us, as it 
Forever Maxima shall be. Come then, 
Brave men, in honor of such famous deeds 
Wreathe with the leaf your locks, and lift the cup "335 
With your right hands. Upon the great god call, 
And to his honor freely pour the wine." 

He finished. Double-hued, the poplar veiled 
His locks with its Herculean shade, and drooped 
Its intertwining leaves. The sacred cup 34 ° 

His right hand filled. Quick on the table all 
Their glad libations poured, and called the god. 

Day done meantime, the vesper nearer fell. 
And now the priests, Potitius at their head, 
Advanced, robed as their custom was in skins, 345 
And bore the torch. They lay the feast ; they spread 
The delicacies of the second board, 
And with o'erflowing chargers heap the shrines. 
Then round the incense-burning altars dance 
And sing the Salii, crowned with poplar wreaths, 350 
A band of young men here, of old men there. 
The praise and deeds of Hercules they chant : 
How first he strangled, caught in either hand, 
Two monster snakes, his step-dame Juno sent ; 
How he besieged and razed those famous towns, 355 
Troy and QEchalia : how he achieved, 
As king Eurystheus' slave, by Juno's hate 
Compelled, a thousand crushing tasks. " 'Twas thou, 
Invincible," they sang, "whose hand laid low 
The cloud-born Centaurs, Pholus and Hylaeus, 360 
The Cretan monsters, and the lion huge 



2 54 



THE ^ENEID. 



That lay beneath the cliffs of Nemea ! 

Before thee shrank the Styx ; the janitor 

Of hell cowered in his gory cave, and left 

His feast of bones half-gnawed ! No goblin shape, 365 

Not vast Typhoeus 1 self with leveled sword 

Made thee afraid, undaunted still though snapped 

At thee the Lerna hydra's hundred heads ! 

Hail, thou true son of Jove, who to the gods 

An added honor art ! In these thy rites 370 

Bless us, and with a favoring step draw near! " 

Such were the songs in which they sang his praise. 
More than all else, of Cacus' cave they sang, 
And Cacus' self whose breath was fire. Their din, 
The whole wood rang ; back echoed it the hills. 375 

The sacred service o'er, all to the town 
Return, led by the king, now ripe in years, 
Who as he walks attaches to his side 
^neas and his son, and lighter makes 
The way with talking of a thousand themes. 3S0 

^Eneas is all eyes, sees everything 
Around him at a glance, and with the place 
Is charmed. Full of delight he asks and hears 
What each memorial of the fathers means. 

Spake king Evander then, who founded Rome : 3S5 
"Fauns, and our native nymphs, and men who sprang 
From tree-trunks and the hardy oaks, these groves 
Inhabited. They neither culture had 
Nor home : they knew not how to yoke the ox, 
Or wealth lay up, or save it when acquired : 390 

Their food was twigs and the tired hunter's meal. 
First from Olympus' summit Saturn came. 



THE ^NEID. 



2 5S 



An exile fleeing from Jove's thunderbolts, 

And of his realm despoiled. He trained the race, 



Dispersed along the hills, to gentle ways 

And gave it laws. It was his wish to call 

This Latium, because he here had lain 

Securely hid. It was the golden age, 

Of which they tell, when he was king, — so sweet 

The peace when he the people ruled. On this 

Grew slow a meaner, duller-metaled age, 

The insanity of war, the love of gain : 

The Ausonian and Sicanian tribes came next : 

Too oft the land of Saturn changed its name. 

Then came the kings, and giant Tybris grim, 

By whose name we Italians since have called 

This river Tiber, which has lost its old 

True name of Albula. Banished the land 

That gave me birth, the sea's last perils dared, 

Resistless fortune and relentless fate 

Have set me here. So the dread warnings bade, 

That from my mother, nymph Carmentis, came, 

And from Apollo, patron god of mine." 

E'en as he spake, advancing thence, he showed 
The shrine and gate, an ancient monument 
They say — Carmental is its Roman name — 
Raised to that prophetess of truth, the nymph 
Carmentis, who first sang the Trojans yet 
Would mighty be, and Pallanteum great. 
Then the vast grove he showed, that Romulus 
To an asylum turned, and the cool grot 
Lupercal, named in the Arcadian phrase 
In honor of Lycaean Pan, — showed, too, 



395 



256 THE ^ENEID. 



The grove of sacred Argiletum, where 

He told of his guest Argus' death and swore 425 

There on the spot that he was innocent. 

Anon to the Tarpeian rock he leads 

The way, and to the Capitol, now gold, 

Then rough with briar and wood. Yet even then 

The awful sanctity that wrapt the place 430 

Frightened the timid rustics, and they shook 

At every tree and rock. "This very grove," 

He said, "this summit with its leafy top, 

A god — what god, unknown — inhabited. 

The Arcadians think 'twas Jove himself they saw ; 435 

For oft in his right hand he shook aloft 

His frowning aegis, and drove up the storm. 

Here too you see two fortressed towers, their walls 

Demolished now, relics and monuments 

Of men of yore. One father Janus built, 440 

The other Saturn : one Janiculum, 

The other bore the name Saturnia." 

In talk like this, Evander's modest home 
They reach, while here and there before their eyes 
Are cattle bellowing where anon shall stand 445 

The Roman forum and Rome's proudest street. 
The' palace gained, "Once Hercules," he said, 
" A victor o'er this threshold strode ; to him 
This royal hall gave welcome. Take thou heart, 
O guest, to laugh at wealth ; show that thou too 450 
Art worthy of the god ; nor come thou here 
To mock our poverty." So spake, and led 
Beneath the rafters of his humble roof 
The great JEneas. On a couch of leaves 



THE ^ENEID. 257 



And Libyan lion-skins he seated him. 4 55 

Night speeds its dusky wings around the earth 
To wrap. Then mother Venus, not without 
Good reason timid, startled at the threats 
And fierce onslaught of the Laurentians, 
To Vulcan speaks, breathing in every word ^ 

Celestial passion as she thus begins, 
Snug in the golden bedroom of her lord : 
" Long as the Grecian kings were wasting Troy 
With wars that Troy deserved ; while sank its towers 
Beneath the burning of the foe, no help 465 

Of thine I asked to aid them in defeat, ' - 

Nor that thy deft hand forge them arms. No wish 
Had I that thou should'st spend thy toil in vain, 
E'en, dearest husband, though to Priam's sons 
I owed so much, and at the hard lot oft * 7 ° 

Of my iEneas wept. But now he stands . 
At Jove's behest on the Rutulian shores ; 
And I, my heart the same, a suppliant come, 
A mother for her son, and of thy grace 
That is to me so sacred, beg thee arms 475 

For him. Aurora with her tears had power, 
And Thetis had, to influence thee. Nay, see 
What nations press him, and what cities shut 
Their gates and whet the sword to slaughter me 
And mine." And while she spake, the goddess took* 80 
Him in her snow-white arms and fondled him. 
Resisting still her soft embrace, anon 
The wonted glow he felt : he knew the fire 
That shot him to the quick, and ran in thrills 
Through every nerve : so through the rifted clouds 8 s 
17 



>5S 



THE ^ENEID. 



Streams blazing on its fiery edge of flame 

The hissing thunderbolt. Pleased at the trick, 

Sure of her charms, the woman felt him yield ; 

While Vulcan, by the passion old as earth 

O'ercome, replied : " Why beat about the bush ? 490 

Why, goddess, hath thy faith in me relaxed ? 

Nay, hadst thou pleaded with me half as hard, 

I would have also made the Trojans arms, 

For not the Almighty Father, nor the fates 

Forbade Troy stand, or Priam ten years more 495 

Survive. E'en now, if thou mean'st war, if such 

Thy resolution is, I pledge thee all 

That skill can in my art avail, whate'er 

In steel or molten metal can be wrought, 

Whatever forge or right good will can do. 500 

Weaken thy influence not, by doubting mine." 

So spake, and gave the embrace solicited. 

At rest upon the bosom of his wife, 

He drew into his limbs the peace of sleep. 

So till just past the midmost turn of night. 5°5 

Then, as the housewife who, compelled to eke 
Her life with toil and labor at the loom, 
The ashes parts and blows the slumbering coals, 
Adding the night to work, and till the dawn 
Keeping her servants at their weary task, 5«« 

That so she chaste may keep her husband's bed, 
And raise her little ones — as prompt as she, 
The fire-god springs from rest to work the forge. 

Off Sicily and ^Eolian Lipara, 
An island lifts its steep and sea-beat cliffs. 515 

Beneath its caves Etnean caverns, wrought 



THE ^ENEID. 



2 59 



For forges of the Cyclops, thunder there. 

Stout blows are heard on anvils echoing, 

The vaults all hissing with the iron flux, 

Flame panting from the furnaces. It is 520 

The home of Vulcan and the spot is named 

Vulcania. 'Tis here the fire-god now 

From heaven's top comes down. In the deep cave 

Are Cyclops — Brontes, Steropes, and nude 

Pyracmon — forging iron : the thunderbolt s 2 s 

Is in their hands unshapen and half made, 

While half is still unwrought, — though often thus 

Jove hurls it to the earth from every part 

Of heaven. Already have they spiked to it 

Three jets of stinging hail, as many more 530 

Of bursting rain, three of the lightning's flash, 

And of the whirlwind three ; and now are they 

Inserting in their work its frightful glare 

And roar and terror, and the lightning wrath 

Of its avenging fire. Elsewhere, for Mars 535 

They fashion chariots and the swift car wheels 

With which nations and men to strife he stirs. 

Fighting Minerva's fearful shield and arms 

They vie in burnishing with serpent scales 

And gold, with snakes all intercoiled, with e'en 540 

The Gorgon's head upon the goddess' breast, 

Its head dissevered and its eyes a-roll. 

" Leave all ! " he cries. " Let go the work on hand, 
Etnean Cyclops, and give me your ears ! 
A brave chief's armor must be made. Need now 545 
Of strength, of rapid handiwork, and all 
The master-workman's skill. Quick to the forge ! " 



260 THE ^NEID. 



No more spake he ; yet quicker than he spake, 

They all laid on, his part allotted each 

Alike. Rivers of metal flow, of brass 550 

And gold. In the huge furnace melts the steel, 

The creature of the fire. A mighty shield, 

Alone enough for all the Latins' spears, 

They forge ; seven fold they make it, orb on orb. 

While some with bellows suck and force the air, sss 

Others plunge* in the trough the hissing brass. 

Beneath the blows that fall the anvil rings. 

With mighty force alternately their arms 

They lift, each keeping stroke, while e'er they turn 

With tightly griping tongs the hammered mass. 560 

While Vulcan thus on the ^Eolian coast 
Makes haste, Dawn and the morning songs 
Of birds, that fly and sing about his roof, 
Invite Evander from his modest door. 
The patriarch rises, puts his tunic on, 565 

And ties his Tuscan sandals 'neath his feet : 
About his waist and o'er his shoulder next 
He buckles his Tegean sword, and throws 
Across the left a falling panther's skin. 
From off the upper step, two faithful hounds 570 

Spring up and follow at their master's heels. 
He seeks his guest ^Eneas' hut and room, 
Mindful, the hero, of the talk they had, 
And of his promised aid. iEneas, too, 
Is early up. Pallas, his son, with one, 575 

Achates with the other walks. They meet, 
Right hands they clasp, and sitting mid the court 
Enjoy at length uninterrupted talk. 



THE 2ENEID. 2 6i 



First speaks the king : "Greatest of Trojan chiefs, 

Ne'er will I own, while thou surviv'st, that Troy s So 

Hath lost her empire or her power. 'Tis small, 

Remembering the name we bear, the aid 

That we can furnish for the war. This side 

The Tiber shuts ; that the Rutulian guards, 

And yells his war-cry at our very gates. 585 

And yet I see my way to reinforce 

Thy camp from mighty peoples and from realms 

Of opulence, unhoped-for luck the way 

Of safety showing. Hither at the call 

Of fate itself thou com'st. Not far away, 590 

Argylla's city, built of time-worn rock, 

Hath been inhabited since on the hills 

Of Tuscany the Lydian nation set, 

Illustrious in war, its colonies. 

For many years Mezentius was king 595 

In that brave town, — tyrannical his reign, 

Sustained but by the brutal force of arms. 

Why need I tell what cruel slaughters his, 

What deeds of savageness the tyrant dared ? 

May yet the gods visit on him and his 6o ° 

Like horrors! It was e'en his wont to link 

The living to the dead, face laid on face 

And hand to hand — quintessent torturing — 

And rack them, fainting in that dread embrace 

Of gore and rot, in lingering throes of death. 6o 5 

So, till, at length worn out, his subjects flew 

To arms ; his house and him, mad past all bounds, 

They sieged, his comrades slew, and fired his roof. 

Eluding them, he mid the slaughter fled, 



262 THE iENEID. 



To the Rutulian boundaries, and sought 6l ° 

A guest's protection under Turnus' flag. 

So 'tis all Tuscany is up in arms, 

Its anger just, and claims for punishment 

Its king on pain of instant war. Thee chief 

I'll make, ^Eneas, of their soldiery. 6l 5 

For, packed the whole shore down, their galleys 

chafe 
And clamor for the signal of advance. 
An old seer keeps them, chanting thus the fates : 

chosen warriors of Mozonia, 

Ye flower and bravery of our aiicient stock, 62 ° 

Whom righteous vengeance arms against the foe, 
And whom Mezentius stings to honest wrath, 
9 Tis fated that no son of Italy 
Command so stout a race: seek ye a chief 
Of foreign birth ! And so the Tuscan host, 6 *5 

Stunned by these warnings of the gods, keep camp. 
Tarchon hath sent ambassadors to me, 
And to my hands the sceptre and the crown, 
The insignia of the realm, in hope that I 
Will to their tents repair and take on me 6 3° 

The Tuscan rule. But age, worn out with years 
And chilled to heaviness, robs me that power, 
My energies too spent for martial deeds. 

1 would have urged my son, but that in part, 

A Sabine mother's blood mixed in his veins, 6 35 

His parentage is native. But go thou, 

Of Trojans and Italians bravest chief, 

Thou, on whose years and race fate smiles, and whom 

The powers of heaven demand. Nay, Pallas here, 



THE iENEID. 263 



My son, the hope and solace of my life, 6 -*° 

Will I ally with thee. Be thou his guide, 

And let him learn as he shall see thy deeds, 

To do a- soldier's duty, and to bear 

War's heavy brunt, his admiration thou 

From this hour forth. Two hundred cavalry, 6 45 

Come of Arcadian stock, the very flower 

Of our young men, I'll give him. Pallas thee 

As many more shall in his own name give." 

Ere this JEneas Anchisiades, 
Faithful Achates too, their eyes bent down, 6 5° 

Were thinking in their own sad hearts how long 
And hard the road, when Venus gave a sign, 
Though not a vapor flecked the sky. For quick 
Out of the ether burst the quivering flash 
And thunder-clap : all seemed to crash at once, 6 55 
As through the air there rang a blast as if 
A Tuscan bugle blew. They start. Loud, loud, 
The mighty thunder peals. Borne on a cloud, 
Where else is all serene, through the clear air 
They see the gleam of arms and hear the clash 66 ° 
Of steel. < All others dazed, the man of Troy 
Knows well the sound, his goddess mother's sign, 
And cries : " Ask not, my friend, ask not indeed, 
What these portents foretell. It is the voice 
Of heaven. My goddess mother gave her word 66 5 
That she would send this sign, if war should threat, 
And to my aid would bring me through the air 
Armor of Vulcan's make. Ah me ! what deaths 
For these poor Latins are in store ! Ah ! how 
Shalt, Turnus, thou to me atone ! How thick 6 7° 



264 THE ^NEID. 



The heroes' shields and helms and corses brave, 
Thou, father Tiber, shalt roll on ! Now let 
Them break the truce and set the battle-line. " 

No sooner said than from his lofty seat 
He rose. At once he blows aflame the coals 6 7S 

That slumber on the shrine of Hercules 
And on the Lar he worshipped yesterday, 
And on his modest household gods attends. 
Evander and the Trojan youth alike 
Make sacrifice of duly-chosen sheep : 68 ° 

Next, to the fleet they go, their comrades find 
Again, and out of those who to the wars 
Are bent, pick the most valorous. The rest 
Take to the current and float lazily 
Adown the stream, to bear Ascanius 68 5 

The tidings how fare fortune and his sire. 
Horses are furnished to those Trojan braves, 
Who to the Tuscan land set out. The best, 
They bring ^Eneas, shod with golden shoes, 
Caparisoned with tawny lion's skin. 6 9° 

Quick runs the rumor through that little town 
That" horsemen ride apace unto the king 
Of Tuscany's domain. Mothers repeat 
Their prayers in terror o'er and o'ef. As nears 
The danger, so the terror of it spreads. 6 95 

Already blacker lowers the front of war. 
Evander clings to his departing boy, 
His right hand clasped in his, and while the tears 
Flow ceaselessly, he cries : " Oh, would that Jove 
Would bring the dead years back ! that I were now 7°° 
As when beneath Preneste's towers I charged 



THE ^ENEID. 265 



The battle's edge and burned, a victor there, 

My holocaust of shields, and with this hand 

Struck down to hell king Herilus, whose dam, 

Feronia, gave him — frightful though the tale — 705 

Three lives at birth — three armor suits to wear! 

Thrice must he fall in death ; yet all his lives 

This right hand then took off and all his suits 

Of armor stripped. I would not then be torn 

From thy dear arms, my son, nor ever had 7 IQ 

Mezentius, scorning me his neighbor, dared 

So many put with sword to brutal death, 

Or of so many subjects robbed the state. 

But oh, ye gods, thou Jove, great Lord of Heaven, 

Pity, I beg, Arcadia's king, and hear 715 

A father's prayers ! If but your grace, if fate 

Will bring back Pallas safe to me, if I 

Shall live to see him and come unto him, 

There is no load I cannot bear. But if, 

O Fortune, aught of evil thou dost threat, 720 

Then now, ay now! let snap life's cruel thread, 

While love is yet suspense, while hope still tints 

The future's doubt, while thee, dear boy, my last 

And only hope, I hold within my arms ! 

Else may some sadder message smite my ear." 725 

So sobbed the father as he turned away : 

His servants bore him fainting to his home. 

Ere this the cavalcade had ridden through 
The open gates, ./Eneas at the head, 
Faithful Achates at his side, and next 730 

The other Trojan chiefs — Pallas himself 
The centre of a group, conspicuous 



266 THE iENEID. 



His scarf and the bright blazon of his arms. 

So Lucifer, whom Venus loves beyond 

All other stars, up-dripping from the lave 735 

Of Ocean, sets his glorious front in heaven, 

And lets the shadows loose. Upon the walls 

Stand anxious mothers, following with their eyes 

The dust-trail and the flash of clustering helms, 

As through the bush, straight as the arrow flies, 740 

The warriors ride. Up goes a cheer; close up 

The ranks, while e'er to powder trod, the earth 

Beats to the hoofs of the four-footed steeds. 

A thick grove lines cool Caeris' river-bank : 
Sacred our fathers held it far and near. 745 

All in the hollows of the hills 'tis shut, 
Fringed in with curtains of the dark-green fir. 
As goes the tale, the old Pelasgi men, 
Who the first dwellers were on Latin soil, 
Hallowed this grove, and set apart a day 750 

Unto Sylvanus, god of field and flock. 
Near this, had Tarchon and the Tuscans pitched 
Their camp, where nature's self defended it. 
From the hill-top the whole host lay in sight, 
Outstretched across the open fields. Here came 755 
^Eneas and his chosen men of war, 
And gave their weary limbs and coursers rest. 

Fair goddess seen amid the floating clouds, 
Bringing her gifts, lo ! Venus was at hand. 
Though still afar, soon as she saw her son 760 

By the cool stream and in a dell apart, 
She stood across his path and spake him thus : 
" Behold the gifts my husband's plighted skill 



THE ^ENEID. 



267 



Hath wrought ! Thou shalt not fear thee soon, 

My child, to challenge to the fight the proud 765 

Laurentians, or gallant Turnus' self." 

So Venus spake, caught in her arms her son, 

And hung the shining armor on an oak, 

Full in his view. Ecstatic at the gifts, 

And such an honor from the goddess' hand, 770 

He cannot look enough, but rolls his eyes 

O'er every inch. In wonder lost, at hand 

And at arm's length he holds them back and forth ; — 

The helmet, terrible with plumes that seem 

Like bursts of flame ; the deadly sword ; the huge 775 

And fiery shimmering mail, all stiff with rings 

Of brass, as when the set sun tints the cloud 

That blushes back afar ; the shining greaves 

Inlaid with silver and with gold ; the spear ; 

The shield's devices, past all words to tell. 780 

For on it had the God of Fire, acquaint 
With prophecy, and prescient of the age 
To come, enwrought the might of Italy, 
The victories of Rome, Ascanius' whole 
Descending line, and each successive war. 785 

At full length lies a nursing wolf athwart 
A grassy cave of Mars : about her teats 
Gambol and cling two boys as fearlessly 
As if they did their mother suck, while she, 
Curving her tapering neck, caresses them 790 

By turns, and licks their bodies with her tongue* 
Near by is Rome, where 'gainst all dealing fair, 
Amid the great Circensian games, from out 
The crowded ring are stolen the Sabine girls ; 



268 THE ^NEID. 



Whence instant war breaks out 'twixt Romulus 795 

And the stern Sabines by old Tatius. led : 

Yet soon, the battle truced, the same two kings 

Stand with their armor on before Jove's shrine 

And, cup in hand, in firm alliance join, 

A victim killed in token of their league. 8o ° 

Not far from them, four straining chariot-steeds 

Drag Metius apart, — Alban, thy word 

Thou should'st have kept — and Tullus through the 

wood 
Scatters the liar's limbs, while here and there 
The bushes are bespattered with his blood. 8 °5 

Porsenna mightily besieges Rome, 
And bids it let the banished Tarquin in : 
For freedom, sword to sword the Romans charge. 
There could you see Porsenna mad with rage 
And breathing vengeance for that Codes dared 8l ° 
Cut down the bridge, or Clcelia break her chains, 
And safely swim across the Tiber's flood. 
Upon the top of the Tarpeian rock, 
Before the temple, Manlius stands to guard 
The lofty Capitol where, freshly thatched, 8l 5 

Bristles the royal hut of Romulus. 
Across the gold-bossed porticos, the goose, 
Of silver wrought, flies warning them the Gauls 
Are at the gate. The Gauls themselves appear, 
As they amid the bushes scale the cliff, 82 ° 

The gloom and favor of the heavy night 
Protecting them. Flaxen their hair, and gilt 
The embroidery of their dress. They shine in coats 
Of many hues, their fair necks clasped with chains 



THE iENEID. 269 



Of gold, each brandishing two Alpine spears, ' 82 5 

Their bodies guarded with low-reaching shields. 

Then carvings of the dancing Salii, 

Naked Luperci, tufted woolen caps, 

The shields that fell from heaven ! Chaste matrons 

lead 
Holy processions through the town, conveyed 8 3° 

In cushioned cars. Not far away appear 
The realms of Tartarus, hell's yawning jaws, 
The penalties of guilt : there Catiline 
Hangs from a rock that ever threats to fall, 
And trembles as the Furies glare at him. 8 35 

There too the calm retreats of holy dead, 
And Cato unto them dispensing law. 
Amid all these a scene was wrought in gold 
Of the wide rolling sea, its blue afoam 
With crests of surf. Bright silver dolphins lash 8 4° 
The water with their tails, in circles play, 
And cut the watej- through. There might you see 
The crisis of the fight at Actium, 
The galleys with their brazen peaks, while all 
Leucate bristles with the battle line, 8 45 

A golden shimmer rippling from the waves. 
There standing on the lofty stern, amid 
His senators, his people and his gods — 
His country's gods and the great Deities — 
Augustus Caesar leads into the fight 8 s° 

The men of Italy. Two jets of flame 
In happy augury from his temples leap, 
While on his brow glows clear the Julian star. 
Elsewhere, the gods and breezes favoring, 



ijo 



THE zEXEID. 



Agrippa mounts the deck and leads the fleet: s ^ 

Proud diadem of victory, his head 

Is wreathed refulgent with the naval crown. 

Ranged on the other side is Anton}*, 

Barbaric wealth and many forces his. 

Victorious from the nations of the Dawn 86 ° 

And the Red Sea, he to the combat brings 

Egypt, the soldiers of the Orient, 

And Bactra, farthest city of the East. 

Shame ! his Egyptian mistress follows him ! 

Both sides bear down at once. The ocean foams S6 5 

Torn with the writhing oars and trident beaks. 

They heap the sea. You would have thought they 

were 
The Cyclades, wrenched from their ocean bed. 
That floated there, or mountain peaks that clashed. 
So hugely tower the decks where throng the men. 
Tow balls of tire they throw ; the air is thick 
With missile steel ; redder than e'er before, 
The fields of Neptune with the slaughter grow. 
The queen amid the thickest of the fight 
Her country's timbrel strikes to fire her crews. 
Nor yet the two asps sees pursuing her. 
'Tis Neptune, Venus and Minerva 'gainst 
A monstrous polymix of heathen gods 
And their watch-dog Anubis. Clad in steel. 
Mars through the centre of the combat flames. 
Swoop the grim Furies from the sky. Her robe 
To tatters torn, exulting Discord stalks, 
Chased by Bellona with her bloody scourge. 
Apollo looks from Actium o'er the scene, 



THE /EXEID. 



271 



And strains his bow; till panic-struck at that, 88 5 

All Egypt, Ind, Arabia and the whole 

Sabaean host take flight. The queen herself 

Is seen, shrieking the winds to fill her sails, 

Quick loose the sheets ! Her had the Fire-God caryed 

Amid the slaughter, pale at death's approach, 8 9° 

Winging her flight with wind and wave to where 

The mighty current of the sorrowing Nile 

Opens its arms, and, wide expanding, calls 

Its vanquished children to its azure breast, 

To shelter them within its harboring streams. 8 95 

Then borne through Rome, a triple triumph his, 

Caesar unto the gods of Italy 

Pays his immortal vow, and consecrates, 

The city through, proud temples to the gods. 

The streets are wild with merriment and sports 900 

And acclamations of delight, a band 

Of matrons at each shrine, each altar fired. 

He sits in person at the snow-white gate 

Before Apollo's shining temple front, 

And thanks the people for the gifts they pile 905 

Around its haughty columns. Conquered tribes 

In long procession pass before his eyes, 

Their speech as various as their dress and arms. 

For here had Vulcan wrought the Nomad race, 

The easy-going sons of Africa, 910 

Carians, Leleges and the arrow-skilled 

Geloni. Gentlier flows Euphrates' now. 

The Morini, remotest race of men, 

The branching waters of the river Rhine, 

The untamed Dahae, and Araxes' flood 9»s 



272 



THE .ENEID. 



Too proud to bear a bridge, acknowledge him. 

Such is the gift — the shield that Vulcan wrought — 
His mother's gift, o'er which yEneas hangs, 
And happy at the dream, yet ignorant all 
Of its reality, ashoulder flings 920 

The fortunes and the glory of his seed. 



NINTH BOOK. 

IT 7HILE thus it fares in the interior, 

* * Iris from heaven Saturnian Juno sends 
Down to bold Turnus. Happed it then he sat 
In his progenitor Pilumnus' grove, 
Within a sacred vale. From rosy lips, 5 

Thus Thaumas' daughter spake to him : "Now hath 
The whirligig of time brought that, which hacl'st 
Thou, Turnus, asked it, e'en no god had dared 
To promise thee. Camp, comrades, fleet all left, 
To Palatine Evander's realm and home, IO 

^Eneas hath set forth ; nay, penetrates 
To the remotest towns of Corythus, 
Amid the Tuscan hosts, and there recruits 
And arms the peasant-folk. Why hesitate ? 
Now is the time thy steeds and chariots x s 

To summon to the charge. Burst all delay, 
And storm his camp while 'wildered with alarm." 

So spake, and rose to heaven on even wing, 
And in her flight trailed her majestic bow 
Athwart the clouds. The chieftain knew her then, 2 ° 
Stretched heavenward both his hands, and as she fled 
Such were the words with which he followed her : 
" Iris, thou grace of heaven, who thee hath sent, 
Borne on the clouds to earth, a messenger 
To me ? Whence comes so quick this burst of light ? 2 5 
I see the ether rent in twain, and stars 
18 



274 



THE ^NEID. 



That circle round the pole. Whoe'er thou art 

That call'st me to the fight with such a sign, 

I will obey." Thus spake, and to the stream 

He ran, and from its surface sucked a draught, 30 

Prayed long the gods and piled the air with vows. 

Already marshaled on the open field, 
His whole array advances, rich in steeds, 
And rich in brilliant trappings and in gold. 
Messapus leads the van, while Tyrrheus' sons 35 

Push forward the reserves. Seen of all eyes, 
His spear in hand, his head o'ertopping all 
The rest, Turnus commands the middle line. 
So the deep Ganges quietly flows on, 
Seven silent rivers rising into one ; *° 

So with its fertilizing stream, the Nile 
Creeps from the field and in its channel glides. 

Forth look the Trojans then, and see arise 
A heavy cloud of dust, that loweringly 
Rolls in upon their camp. Cai'cus first 45 

Shouts from the outer wall : " What is this globe, 
O citizens, of dark inrolling dust ! 
Quick to your arms ! advance your spears, and man 
The walls ! Ye gods ! it is the foe." Then pour 
The Trojans with a shout through every gate, 5° 

And on the ramparts throng, for, when he went, 
Should any accident meantime befall, 
Thus had ^Eneas bid, himself the best 
Of all their soldiers, — not to risk a charge, 
Nor take the open field, but only keep 55 

Their camp, and make themselves secure behind 
The bulwark of their walls. And though a sense 



THE iENEID. 



275 



Of rage and shame to close encounter prick, 
They shut their gates, obedient to his hest, 
And under arms await the enemy 6o 

Behind the shelter of their fortresses. 

Turnus outstrips his tardy troops. He rides 
Far in advance, twenty picked chiefs in train, 
And suddenly appears before the camp 
Upon a dappled Thracian charger borne, 6 s 

And capped with helm of gold and crimson plumes. 
" Who first, my chiefs, with me upon the foe ? " 
He cries, as brandishing his spear he hurls 
It through the air — the opening of the fight — 
And rides majestic o'er the field. With shouts 7° 
And hoarse huzzas his comrades follow him. 
They wonder at the Trojans' want of pluck ; 
Wonder that men should fear an open field, 
Nor stand a charge, but hug their camp. Enraged, 
Spurs Turnus to and fro before the walls, 75 

And seeks an entrance but no entrance finds. 
So lurks the wolf when full the fold, and growls 
Around the sheep-cotes half the night, though beat 
By wind and rain : beneath the sheep the lambs 
In safety bleat, while he, infuriate 8o 

And fierce, snaps at the prey he cannot reach, 
Spent with the madness of long famishing, 
His jaws athirst for blood. So burns the wrath 
Of the Rutulian as he looks on camp 
And wall : his very marrow thrills with rage. 8 5 

How shall he force a breach, or how dislodge 
The covered Trojans from their hold, and drive 
Them to the plain ? ■ Close to the camp, the fleet, 



276 THE ^ENEID. 



Defended by a trench and by the stream, 

Lay hid. This he attacks : he bids his men, 9° 

Glad at the duty, fire it, and himself 

Grasps eagerly a blazing torch. To work 

They spring : by Turnus' presence spurred, girts him 

Each youth with lurid fire. They strip the hearths ; 

Wide flings the pitchy brand its flame and smoke, 95 

Upstreaming to the stars the blaze and sparks. 

Tell me, ye Muses, who the god that saved 
The Trojans from so fierce a blaze ? Who snatched 
Their fleet from fire so fell ? Traditional 
The tale, and yet eternal is its fame. IO ° 

As early as on Phrygian Ida's slope 
^Eneas launched his fleet, and ready made 
To go to sea, 'tis said that Cybele, 
The Berecynthian mother of the gods, 
Spake mighty Jove these words : " Grant, son, the 
prayer io 5 

Thy loving mother lifts to thee, who hast 
Subdued Olympus. Many years there grew 
A wood of pines I loved. They made a grove 
Upon the mountain-top, thick with the shade 
Of maple and the dark green pitch-pine boughs. IIQ 
These have I gladly given the Trojan chief, 
Who needs them for his boats, and yet I feel 
In my solicitude a nervous dread. 
Rid me my fear, and let a mother's prayers 
Avail so far, that they from off their course "5 

May ne'er be driven more, nor wrecked by storms. 
In good stead let it stand them that they grew 
On mountain-top of mine." Answered her son, 



THE iENEID. 



277 



Who rolls the starry firmament of heaven : 
" O mother, whither would'st thou warp the fates ? 12 ° 
Or what is it thou seek'st for such as these ? 
Shall keels that mortal hand hath laid enjoy 
The sacredness of immortality ! 
Mid risks that seem to peril all, yet sure 
Unto his destiny ^neas goes. 12 5 

Nay now, their voyage at end, when they have made 
The Italian ports, from such as shall have then 
Escaped the perils of the sea, and brought* 
The Trojan chief to the Laurentian land, — 
From them their mortal shape will I release, J 3° 

And bid them nymphs of mighty ocean be, 
Cutting the waves that curl before their breasts, 
Like Nereid Doto, or like Galatea." 
By Styx, his brother's flood, and by its banks 
With pitch and yawning whirlpools washed, he 
swore, x 35 

And vast Olympus trembled at his nod. 

And now has come that fated hour : the Fates 
Have spun the full allotted time. The threat 
Of Turnus warns the mother of the gods 
To avert the firebrand from her sacred rafts. x *° 

Bursts then a new light on the lookers' eyes : 
The mighty cloud of the Idaean choir 
Rushes athwart the heavens from east to west \ 
An awful voice falls through the air, and thrills 
The Trojan and Rutulian ranks alike. x 45 

" Charge not, ye Trojans, to defend my fleet, 
Nor rush to arms. Sooner shall Turnus burn 
The sea, than these my hallowed pines. Go ye, 



278 



THE .ENEID. 



Go free, ye ocean nymphs ! Your mother bids." 

At once each prow breaks from the chain that binds x s° 

It to the shore, and like a dolphin leaps 

Bow-foremost to the bottom of the sea. 

Thence, sight miraculous ! rise up again, 

Rocked by the waves, as many a girlish face 

As were the brazen beaks that lay but now l ss 

At anchor off the shore. The Rutuli 

Look on aghast : Mes'sapus e'en is awed, 

His steeds affrighted, while the river groans 

And chokes, and Tiber from the sea recoils. 

Fails not bold Turnus' courage ; all the more l6 ° 

He finds him words to rouse their spirits up, 

And rally them : "It is the Trojans whom 

These omens threat. E'en Jove has stripped from 

them 
His wonted aid; no need was there of axe 
Or torch of ours. Henceforth the sea is shut t6 5 

Against the Trojans : hope of flight is gone, 
And half their force cut off ; the land is ours \ 
And the Italian tribes are bringing us 
Thousands of troops. No oracles of fate, 
On which these Phrygians harp, though straight from 

heaven, J /° 

Make me afraid. For Venus and the fates, 
Enough that on Italia's fertile soil 
The Trojans have set foot. My destiny 
'Gainst theirs I set ; and mine it is to put 
To sword this godless crew that kidnap wives. I75 
That insult stung not Atreus' sons alone ; 
Nor for the Greeks alone the ordeal of war. 



THE iENEID. 279 



Enough, perhaps, that once they were consumed, 
Were they content but once to sin, and had 
They scorned, scarce one exempt, all women since. lSo 
They pluck their courage up, because they trust 
These barricades that lie 'tween them and us, 
This hindrance of a ditch, though but a thread 
'Twixt life and death. Yet saw they not the walls 
Of Troy, the woik of Neptune's hand, go down l8 5 
In flames ? Picked soldiers ye, who forward step 
To scale with me their ramparts and invade 
Their frightened camp, no arms of Vulcan's make, 
Nor fleet want I, to fight these hounds from Troy ! 
Let every Tuscan join their ranks. Nor need x 9° 
They fear, under the cover of the dark, 
The sneaking theft of their Palladium. 
In the false belly of no horse we hide, 
But in the light of day we fire their walls. 
So will I bear me, they shall find they fight J 95 

Not with the Greeks, nor the Pelasgic spawn, 
Whom Hector baffled ten long years. And now, 
The day far spent, for what remains take heart, 
My men, that all hath gone so well ; eat, drink, 
And sleep, and on your arms await the fight." 2 °° 

Meantime Messapus' duty 'tis to set 
A watch before the gates and hedge the camp 
With fires. Fourteen Rutulian chiefs are picked 
To guard the lines, each with a hundred men, 
Brilliant with purple plumes and armor gilt. 2 °5 

They march from post to post and take their turns. 
Stretched on the grass, they solace them with wine 
And drain the brazen cup. Bright shine the fires : 



2 So THE iENEID. 



The watch eke out the wakeful night in play. 
Guarding their rampart-tops, the Trojans look 2I ° 

From their defences down upon the scene. 
Made anxious by their feajs, they try each gate ; 
From fort to fort they bridge, and missiles heap. 
Mnestheus and brave Sergestus take the lead, 
Whom, should the crisis call, ^Eneas chose 2i s 

For captains and directors of affairs. 
Each man assigned his post along the lines, 
The whole camp on the alert against attack, 
Each guards in turn whate'er each has to guard. 

At one gate Nisus, son of Hyrtacus — 22 ° 

One of the boldest soldiers in the ranks — 
Stood sentinel. Deft with the javelin 
And slender shaft, him had his mother sent, 
Herself a huntress on Mount Ida's slopes, 
To bear ^Eneas company. With him 22 5 

Euryalus his comrade shared the watch — 
No nobler figure in ^Eneas' train 
Or clad in Trojan armor, though the down 
Of youth just tinged his boyish unshorn cheek. 
Their hearts were one : in battle side by side 2 3° 

They charged ; and now together at the gate 
They stand on guard. 'Tis Nisus speaks : " Is it 
The gods, Euryalus, that in our souls 
Ambition prick ; or is his chiefest wish 
To each his god ? My heart doth burn to fight 2 35 
Or some great risk to dare, and chafes at this 
Unruffled quietude. Thou see'st the trust 
Of these Rutulians : their fires burn low : 
In wine and slumber taxed, they lie aground, 



THE ^NEID. 281 



And all is silent far and near. List quick 2 -*° 

What 'tis I plan, the thought that frets my soul ! 
The common folk and the grey beards all long 
To call iEneas back and send out scouts 
To make exact report of what is up. 
If they will but assure thee what I ask, 2 -+5 

Enough for me the glory of the exploit. 
Beneath yon hiil it seems me I can trace 
My way to Pallanteum's walls and town." 
Struck at such thrist'for praise, Euryalus 
Starts back, and thus his hot-brained friend he 
chides. • 2 s° 

" Nisus, dost thou refuse at such a pinch 
To make me thy companion ? Or would I 
Let thee into such perils go alone ? 
Not so my war-trained sire Opheltes taught, 
Bred as I was 'twixt terror of the Greek 2 55 

And risks for Troy. Not so have I with thee 
Thy dangers shared, while brave ^Eneas' fate 
And toughest rubs of fortune following. 
The soul that stirs within this breast of mine 
Holds life so cheap, that it were poor exchange 2(So 
For honor such as thou resolv'st to win." 

But Nisus said : " Indeed I did not count 
On this from thee, nor is it right I should. 
To thee I looked for happy welcome back, 
Should mighty Jove, or whate'er god may smile 26 5 
Upon this dash of mine, grant me return : 
But if amid the perils, — and thou see'st 
How many wait on such a risk, — should god 
Or chance go hard with me, I meant that thou 



2 S 2 THE ,ENEID. 



Should'st live, too young to throw thy life away : 2 7° 

Then, were my body from the field borne off 

Or ransomed for a price, there would be left 

One friend to bury it beneath the sod, 

Or, if that fortune were denied, at least 

To pay death's honors to my absent corpse 2 ?s 

And decorate a grave for me. Besides, 

I would not be the cause of grief so keen 

To thy unhappy mother, who, alone 

Out of so many aged women, boy, 

Dared go through all with thee, indifferent 28 ° 

To great Acestes' sheltering walls." But still 

The youth replied : "It is not worth thy while 

To link this futile chain of argument. 

Unmoved, my resolution falters not. 

Quick let us go ! " he cries, and wakes the guards, 28 5 

Who come and take their turn. Leaving the post, 

Nisus and he go twain to seek the prince. 

All the world else in slumber loosed its cares, 
And the tired heart forgot its weariness, 
Save that the Trojan chiefs, the chosen men, 2 9° 

Held council on the crisis of the state — 
What should be done, who to ./Eneas be 
Their messenger. Leaning on their tall spears, 
There in the centre of the camp and plain, 
With shield on arm they stand. 'Tis just at this 2 95 
That Nisus and Euryalus implore 
Audience at once — matter of great import 
They claim, and well worth all the time they ask. 
At once Ascanius lets them in, all hot 
For their adventure, and bids Nisus speak ; 300 



THE iENEID. 283 



Whereat the son of Hyrtacus breaks out: 

" Give us fair hearing, Trojans, nor despise 

Our project for our youth. Unstrung with wine 

And slumber, the Rutulians lie aground. 

With our own eyes have we marked out the course 305 

For our manoeuvre, taking at the forks 

The road that skirts the sea. The foe's camp-fires 

Are going out, and with the rising smoke 

The stars are dimmed. If ye but let us try 

Our luck to find ^Eneas and the town i 10 

Of Pallanteum, him shall ye soon see 

Return, laden with spoils, his way a wide 

And bloody swath. Nor shall the path mislead 

Our steps. Oft in the hunt have we caught sight, 

Aglint through valley copses, of the town 315 

And learned each winding of the stream. " At this, 

Aletes, old in years, in wisdom ripe, 

Exclaims : " Gods of our country, 'nea'th whose 

watch 
Troy ever is, not yet do ye permit 
Her sons to perish utterly, so long 320 

As in the bosom of her youth ye breathe 
Such souls as these, and hearts thus resolute ! " 
So spake, and hand and shoulder caught them 

both, 
While tears ran ploughing down his face and cheeks. 
" Heroes, what honors can I think enough 325 

To pay you for such bravery ? The gods 
And your own consciences will be your first 
And best reward ; ^Eneas in due time, 
And, when to manhood come, Ascanius, 



284 THE ^ENEID. 



Never forgetful of desert so great, 330 

Shall render you the rest." " Yes, Nisus, I," 

Ascanius cried, " who am all lost, if back 

Come not my sire, by our great natal gods, 

By our ancestral Lar, and by the shrines 

Of the pure Vesta swear, whate'er my fate, 335 

Whatever my hopes, into your hands I trust 

Them all. Call ye my father back ! Restore 

His face ; and he once home, I have no fear. 

Two silver cups, embossed and richly wrought, — 

My father took them when Arisba fell, — 340 

Two tripods, and two talents great of gold, 

Nay, Dido's gift to me, — the antique bowl 

Sidonian Dido gave, — will I give you. 

And should be ever mine the victor's lot 

To conquer Italy, its sceptre grasp, 345 

And parcel out the spoils — thou saw'st the steed 

That Turnus rode, the golden arms he wore — 

That very steed, his shield, his crimson plumes, 

I'll from the dice reserve — nay, from this hour 

Regard them, Nisus, as thine own reward. 350 

My sire shall give thee more, — twelve women picked 

For beauty of their shapes, twelve captive males 

With all their outfit too, and, added them, 

As big a patch of land for thine as king 

Latinus' own. Ah ! as for thee, dear boy, 355 

Whose age runs nearer mine, with all my heart 

I welcome thee my bosom friend in all 

My fortunes hence ; and whether war or peace 

I prosecute, in counsel or in act, 

My utmost confidence shall rest in thee." 360 



THE .ENEID. 



285 



To him thus answers back Euryalus :' 

"Come fortune good or bad, this all my boast: — 

No' hour, when duty thus on courage calls, 

Shall find me recreant. But one gift I ask, 

Yet more to me than all gifts else. I have 365 

A mother who, of Priam's ancient stock, 

Fared forth with me ; nor Ilium's shore, alas ! 

Nor king Acestes' walls could keep her back. 

Whate'er the hazard that I undergo, 

I leave her ignorant o't, not one last kiss 370 

Upon her cheek. By thy right hand, by Night 

I swear, I could not bear a mother's tears. 

Do thou, I beg, relieve her want, and cheer 

Her loneliness ; this let me hope of thee, 

And through all dangers I shall bolder go." 375 

Touched to the heart, the Trojans weep, but fair 

lulus more than all, entranced at such 

A counterfeit of his own filial love ; 

And thus he cries : " I pledge thee everything 

Thy noble enterprise deserves. For she 380 

Shall be my mother, lacking but the name 

Creiisa, and her joy in such a son 

Shall not be small. Whatever be the fate 

That waits thy venture, by this head I swear, 

By which my father used to swear, that all 385 

I promised thee, successful and returned, 

Shall to thy mother and thy race descend 

As well." Thus speaking through his tears, from off 

His shoulder he unbelts the golden swordj 

That with rare skill Cretan Lycaon made 390 

And lightly fitted with an ivory sheath. 



2 S6 THE 7ENEID. 



To Nisus for a mantle Mnestheus gives 
A lion's shaggy skin ; and sturdy old 
Alethes makes exchange of helmets. Forth 
They go, armed to the teeth ; and all the chiefs, 395 
The young and old, follow their steps with prayers, 
While e'er the fair lulus, with a soul 
And manly thoughtfulness beyond his years, 
Sends message after message to his sire. 
Yet shall the winds but dissipate them all, 400 

And make them idle playthings for the clouds! 
Once out the camp, they overleap the ditch, 
And through the shadows of the night invade 
The intrenchments of the foe, forerunners they 
Of many a soldier's slaughter. Here and there, 405 
Scattered along the grass, they see men drowned 
In sleep and wine — the shore with chariots lined — 
Wheels, harness, drivers, arms and casks, all strewn 
Together. Nisus is the first to speak : 
" Now must the arm be nerved, Euryalus : 410 

The very opportunity invites 

Attack. Here lies our path. Do thou keep guard, 
Thine eyes on the alert, so that no squad 
Attack our rear, while I cut^right and left, 
And mow thee in advance a good wide swath." 415 
This said, his voice is hushed, as with his sword 
He stabs the haughty Rhamnes, who, it chanced, 
Raised on a couch of stuffs, lay snoring there 
With all the bellows in his chest. A king 
Was he and prophet, whom king Turnus held 420 
In very high esteem ; yet ne'er with all 
His prophecy could he ward off his doom. 



THE ^ENEID. 287 



Near by, he kills three slaves, they and their wares 

At random lying — the armor-bearer next 

Of Remus — then the charioteer, o'er whom **s 

He trips, lying beneath the horses' heels : 

The neck thrown back, he cleaves it with his sword • 

The head he lays beside the master's own, 

And leaves the trunk outbubbling blood, while sand 

And turf are puddled hot with crimson gore — «° 

Next Lamyrus, and Lamus, and the youth 

Serranus with his handsome face, who late 

That night had played and now lay all abroad, 

O'ercome with too much wine — happy, had he 

But made his play the equal of the night -^5 

And lengthened it till morning ! So might rave 

An unfed lion in a pen of sheep : 

To madness hunger-driven, its mouth afoam 

With blood, it rends and tears the cowering flock, 

That dare not even bleat for fear. Nor less ^° 

The carnage of Euryalus ; he too 

Flames furious, stealing mid a group too large 

To name, Herbesus, Fadus, Abaris, 

And Rhcetus, taken all at unawares, — 

Rhcetus indeed on watch and witnessing **5 

The whole attack, but panic-struck and hid 

Behind a monstrous tub. Up to the hilt 

Against his breast, as he uprises, straight 

Euryalus drives home his sword, then draws 

It forth again, death following instantly. 450 

Out with it gush the purple streams of life 

And a mixed drool of wine and blood. At this, 

Hot with the exploit, Euryalus darts on, 



288 THE ^ENEID. 



And now wends towards Messapus' quarters, where 
He sees the farthest camp-fire dying out, 455 

And the tied horses cropping at the grass ; 
But Nisus speaks him shor.t — for he perceives 
Too far the lust of blood is carrying them — 
"Let us hold off," he cries, "for, near at hand, 
The unfriendly dawn ! Vengeance hath had enough. 460 
Already through the foe our way is cut." 
They leave behind them heaps of soldiers' traps, 
. Wrought solid silver, armor, drinking cups, 
And handsome carpetings. The trappings worn 
By Rhamnes, and his belt embossed with gold — 465 
Presents were these that rich old Caedicus 
Once sent to Remulus of Tibur, when, 
Though far away, he linked him as a guest — 
Died Remulus and gave his grandson them : 
After the grandson's death, who bit the dust 470 

In battle warring with the Rutuli, 
They were the Rutuli's — Euryalus 
Now snatches them, and fits them recklessly 
Around his neck, and then alas, so rash ! 
Puts on Messapus' plumed and graceful casque. 47s 
They leave the camp and make for safer paths. 

A troop of cavalry, their shields abreast, 
Three hundred strong, and Volscens at their head, 
Meantime advancing from the capital 
Of Latium, — while the rest of the recruits 4S0 

Still lingered in their lines upon the field, — 
Rode on to bring king Turnus messages. 
Already close upon his camp they came, 
Just entering his works, when, yet afar 



THE ^ENEID. 



289 



Skirting along the left-hand path, they saw 485 

The fugitives. The casque Euryalus 
Wore thoughtlessly, flashed back and through the dim 
Half-lighted night betrayed him. Not for naught 
They saw him. Volscens from the column shouts : 
"Stand, men! Why pass ye here? Why are ye 
armed ? 490 

And whither do ye go ? " They answer not 
A word, but hurry to the woods, and trust 
The night to shelter them, while here and there 
/The riders spur to each known avenue, 
And every outlet guard with sentinels. 495 

The wood was rough throughout with underbrush 
And scrubby oaks, at each turn full of thorns. 
The path gleamed through the matted undergrowth 
Only at intervals : the trees' thick gloom, 
The very burden of his spoils perplexed 500 

Euryalus, and in the entanglement 
He lost the way. Not fearing for his friend, 
Nisus was off, and had already 'scaped 
The foe and gained the groves, called Alban since 
For Alba's name — then king Latinus had 505 

His spacious stables there — and there he stood 
And looked back vainly for his absent friend. 
"Where have I left thee, poor Euryalus ! 
Or how can I go after thee, or trace 
Again the treacherous w r oods' long tangled way ! " * 10 
At once he picks his footprints back and strays 
Mid the still underwood. The horses' tramp, 
The calls and shouting of pursuit he hears, 
Until, himself in the melee, one cry 

J 9 



290 THE .ENEID. 



Rings in his ears, and there Euryalus 5»s 

He sees, whom wilderecl by the place and night 

And by the sudden onset of the foe, 

Yet struggling hopelessly, they all beset 

At every point. And what can Nisus do ? 

What strength, what arms hath he that he shall dare 520 

The rescue of Euryalus ? Shall he 

Plunge headlong through the circle of their swords, 

Death staring in his face, and nobly die 

Cut through and through ? Sooner than thought, his 

arm 
Drawn back, he brandishes his spear, his face 525 

Uplifted to the moon, and prays her thus : 
" Goddess, thou glory of the starry skies, 
Diana, guardian of the woods, be kind, 
And succor us in our extremity ! 
If e'er my father Hyrtacus for me 530 

Did any gift upon thine altar lay; 
If from the chase I e'er have added mine, 
Or any to thy sacred walls affixed 
Or from thy ceilings hung, guide through the air 
My shaft, and let me put this swarm to flight." 535 

This said, with all his body in the cast, 
He hurled his spear. Cleaving the twilight shades 
It sped, and — Sulmo standing in its path — 
Crashed through his ribs, where broke the splintered 

wood, 
Deep in his vitals thrust. A heap he rolls, 540 

The hot blood pulsing from his breast, till cold 
He lies, and pants with long-drawn gasps for breath. 
His clustering comrades gaze on him, when, lo ! 



THE yENEID. 291 



E'en swifter than before, another lance 
Doth Nisus poise above his ear, and while 545 

They in confusion stand, the hissing steel 
Both Tagus' temples nails, and hangs, and smokes 
With his out-oozing brain. Grim Volscens raves, 
Yet nowhere sees the author of the shot, 
Nor can he tell on whom to vent his wrath. 550 

" Then shalt thou pay me penalty for both, 
Ere yet thy blood hath time to cool," he roars \ 
And as he speaks, his sword he draws, and flies 
Upon Euryalus. At this heart-rent 
And panic-stricken, Nisus shouts, nor can 555 

He longer keep his hiding place or bear 
So sad a sight : " On me, on me — 'twas I 
That did the deed — on me thy w T eapon turn, 
X) thou Rutulian ! Mine the mischief all ! 
He nothing dared or had the power to do, 560 

By heaven I swear it, and the conscious stars : 
He only loved too well his hapless friend." 
But even while he spake, the sword, forced home, 
Sped through the ribs and gashed the fair white breast. 
.Euryalus falls dead, blood streaming down 565 

His graceful figure, and his limp neck sunk 
Upon his shoulder. So by ploughshare cut, 
Some bright flower fades and dies \ so, when the 

rain 
Beats hard, the poppy from its broken stalk 
Droops hanging down its head. Then Nisus leaps 570 
Into their midst ; he singles Volscens out 
From all the rest — at none but Volscens aims, one 
Surrounding whom the foe at every point, 



292 



THE ^NEID. 



And hand to hand, ward Nisus off. He fights 

The harder fort, his sword all round his head 575 

Like lightning flashing, till he plunges it 

Into the bellowing Rutulian's mouth, 

And takes with dying hand the tyrant's life. 

Then gashed from head to foot, he throws himself 

Upon the lifeless body of his friend, 5S0 

And there in death rests peacefully at last. 

Happy ye both ! if aught my song can do, 
Time ne'er shall blot you from the memory 
Long as ^Eneas' line shall have its home 
Upon the Capitol's eternal rock, 5 8 s 

Or Rome shall be the mistress of the world. 

The Rutuli, victorious, yet in tears, 
Their spoils and booty gathered, bear their dead 
Commander Volscens onward to the camp. 
Nor less the sorrow there — Rhamnes found dead, 590 
So many chiefs at one fell swoop cut off, 
Serranus, Numa, and the rest. A crowd 
Surrounds the corses and the half-dead men, 
The place still fresh with recent massacre," 
And blood-rills trickling still. Then one by one 595 
They recognize the spoils the Volscians bring, — 
Messapus' shining helmet, and, regained 
At such a sweat, their own insignia. 

By this, up from Tithonus' saffron bed, 
Dawn rose and with the new day streaked the earth. 6o ° 
Soon as the sun pours down and all is light, 
Girds Turnus his own armor on once more, 
And calls his men to arms. The glittering ranks 
He forms in battle-line, each soldier there 



THE ^NEID. 



293 



To vengeance fired with rumors manifold. 6 °s 

Nay, sorry sight ! on their uplifted spears 

They fix, and follow with loud jeers, the heads 

Of Nisus and Euryalus. Meantime 

The sturdy Trojans face the foe, their right 

Protected by the river, and their left 6l ° 

By their defences. Heavily entrenched, 

They hold their own : but sad are they who stand 

Upon the rampart-top, as to and fro, 

Spiked and adrip with heavy clots of blood, 

The faces of their comrades move before 6l 5 

The eyes that all too sadly call them back. 

Meantime winged Rumor through the frightened camp, 

Swift messenger, doth flit, and at the ear 

Of her the mother of Euryalus 

Alights. The color from her wretched cheeks 62 ° 

Flies instantly. The shuttle from her hands 

Falls down ; her web unravels \ rent with grief, 

She tears her hair, and with a woman's shriek 

Runs madly to the walls and battle's edge, 

Heedless of danger, though the missiles rain * 2 5 

Alike from Trojan friend and Latin foe : 

She fills the air with wailings : " Is it thou 

I see, Euryalus ? Of my old age 

The one last refuge, could'st so cruelly 

Leave me alone ? On such a peril bent, 6 3° 

Could not thy wretched mother speak to thee 

Her parting word ? Alas ! in a strange land, 

Food to the Latin dogs and vultures thrown, 

Thou liest ! Nor did I, thy mother, lay 

Thy body for the grave, nor close thine eyes, 6 35 



294 THE ^NEID. 



Nor wash thy wounds, concealing them beneath 

The robe I hasted day and night to weave — 

Lighting a mother's sorrows with the loom. 

How shall I go to find thee, or the spot 

Where lie thy shoulders, thy dissevered limbs, 6 -*° 

Thy outraged corse ? Is this the sheaf, my son, 

Thou bring'st me back? — Have I o'er land and sea 

Followed but this ? O ye Rutulians, me 

If ye have any pity, kill — ■ at me take aim 

With all your shafts : me first put to the sword ! 6 -+5 

Or thou, O thou great Father of the gods, 

Be merciful, and with thy thunderbolt 

Strike my despised head to Tartarus, 

Since else I cannot snap life's cruel thread ! " 

Her tears touch every heart : . and from them all 6 5° 

A groan of sorrow bursts ; their spirits break ; 

They have no stomach for the fight. At last, 

She shrieking still her griefs, Ilioneus, — 

lulus too, though through his sobs, — commands 

Idaeus lift her up, with Actor's help, 6 55 

And in their arms restore her to her home. 

Then from the ringing brass the trumpet sounds 
Its wild alarm. Follows the battle-cry \ 
And heaven re-echoes it. 'Neath their lapped shields 
The Volscians steadily advance, prepared 66 ° 

To fill the trenches, and the ramparts storm. 
Some seek to steal an entrance, or to scale 
The walls where the defence is weak, or where 
The line seems broken for the lack of men. 
Full in their face the Trojans rain in showers — 66 s 
Trained in their own long war to stand a siege — 



THE iENEID. 295 



All sorts of missiles, and with hard-wood poles 

Beat the assailants off. They roll down stones 

Of cruel weight to break, if possible, 

The roof of bucklers that protects the foe, 6 7° 

Who 'neath their shields but laugh at every shock ; 

Yet waver soon, for, where they densest rush, 

The Trojans loose a ponderous rocky mass, 

And hurl it down. It scatters right and left 

The Rutuli and breaks their armor-screen 6 75 

In fragments. Doughty as they are, no heart 

Have they for fighting longer in. the dark, 

But run to cover from the missile-rain. 

Elsewhere Mezentius — terror to the sight — 

The Tuscan pitch-pine brandishes, and plies 6So 

The smoking torch, the while Messapus, son 

Of Neptune, and a tamer of the horse, 

The rampart storms, and shouts to scale the walls. 

Ye Muses, thou Calliope, I pray, 
Inspire me sing the carnage and the heaps 68 s 

Of dead, that Turnus with his sword then wrought ! 
How each chief struck some soul to hell ! Roll out 
With me the mighty scroll of war, for ye 
Remember, Muses, and can tell the tale I 

A far-outlooking tower, staged high about, 6 ^° 

Stood in the way. On this with all their force 
The whole Italian army charged, and sought 
To raze it to the ground with every means 
At their command. The Trojans meet the assault 
With stones, and through the open casements rain 6 95 
A shower of missiles. Turnus at the front 
Flings up a burning torch, and the flame clings 



296 



THE ^NEID. 



Against the turret's side. Swoln by the wind, 

It grips the scantling, and sticks fast the more 

The timbers burn. The inmates, panic-struck, 700 

Into confusion fall and vainly seek 

Escape from danger. For, while crowding close, 

Retreating to that side still free from fire, 

The turret suddenly beneath their weight 

Goes down, all heaven thundering with the crash ; 70s 

Together with the ponderous pile, run through 

And to each other linked by their own spears, 

Or on the splintering sticks impaled half-dead, 

They all come tumbling to the ground. None 'scape 

Save Lycus and Helenor — barely they: 710 

Of whom Helenor in the bud of youth, 

(To him Lycimnia, a slave, gave birth — 

The stealthy getting of a Lydian king — 

And sent him in -forbidden arms to Troy) 

Is armed but with a sword and a w r hite shield 715 

Unhonored yet with a device, yet finds 

Himself the target of ten thousand men 

Mid Turnus' hosts, while round him right and left 

The Latin battle-ranks press up. 'Tis like 

Some wild beast, when the hunters hedge it in, 720 

That at their weapons glares — prescient of death, 

Yet courting it — and dashes with a bound 

Upon their spears. So, sure to die, the youth 

Charges the centre of the host, and where 

He sees the blades are thickest, there he aims ; 725 

But Lycus, swifter-footed far, through foe, 

Through steel, runs till he gains the wall, and writhes 

To reach the top or clasp his comrades' hands. 



THE ^NEID. 



297 



Turnus with foot and spear alike pursues, 

And rails exulting at him' thus : " Thou fool, 730 

Didst hope that from my hand thoucould'st escape ? " 

Sooner than said he grips him hanging there, 

And with him wrenches half the wall away. 

So, soaring to the skies, the eagle lifts, 

Caught in its claws, a hare or snowy swan: 735 

So from the fold steals robber wolf a lamb, 

The mother bleating for it piteously, 

Up goes a shout from every throat. The foe 

Rush in ; while some with earth the ditches fill, 

Others fling blazing torches pn the roofs. 740 

Then with a rock, big as a mountain crag, 
Ilioneus lays low Lucretius 
Just entering the gate and scattering fire. 
Liger Emathion kills ; Asylas next 
Kills Chorinaeus ; one apt with the spear, 745 

The other with the far swift stealthy shaft. 
Caeneus Ortygius slays, and Turnus slays 
The victor Caeneus : Turnus Itys too 
And Clonius, Dioxippus, Promulus, 
And Sagaris, and Idas standing on 750 

The rampart-top. Capys Privernus kills : 
Themilla's spear had lightly wounded him 
Already, and as now he rashly drops 
His shield to touch the cut, the winged shaft 
Shoots in, nailing his hand upon his heart, 755 

And, penetrating thence yet farther in, 
Cuts short with mortal wound the breath of life. 

The son of Arcens in brave armor stood : 
Brilliant was his embroidered cloak, and bright 



298 THE ^NEID. 



His Spanish colorings, and fine his face. 760 

His father Arcens sent him to the war, 

Trained in his mother's groves that cluster round 

Symaethus' streams, where the Palici have 

Their opulent and hospitable shrine. 

Then laid Mezentius down his arms ; thrice round 765 

His head the whizzing sling at its full swing 

He whirled, and with its molten ball of lead 

Split half and half the forehead of the youth, 

And stretched him all abroad upon the sand. 

Then shot, 'tis said, Ascanius his first 770 

Swift battle shaft — before but wont to fight 
Some hunted beast — and with his own hand slew 
Numanus bold — his surname Remulus — 
Who Turnus' younger sister just had wed. 
Before the foremost line with loud-mouthed boasts, 775 
Worth and unworth repeating, up and down 
He strutted, puffed with his new royalty, 
And shouted as he stalked : " Have ye no shame, 
Twice captured Phrygians, that a second siege 
Within the shelter of your works ye stand, 7S0 

And hide from death behind protecting walls ? 
Lo ! these are they who cry, Your wives or war / . 
What god ; nay, what insanity drove you 
To Italy ? The Atridae are not here ; 
' Nor that glib liar Ulysses. Root and branch, 785 

We are a hardy race. As soon as born, 
Our sons we carry to the streams, and make 
Them tough with baths though through the cruel ice ; 
Our boys burn for the chase ; they scour the woods ; 
It is but sport for them to rein the steed, 790 



THE /ENEID. 



299 



And wing the whizzing arrow from the bow. 

Our youth, inured to toil, trained to scant fare, 

Alike till farm or city sack. The sword 

Is always in our hands. We even goad 

Our oxen with the butt-end of a spear. 795 

Nor doth the sloth of age our courage dull 

Or break our mettle, but we hide gray hairs 

Beneath a helmet, and with fresh delight 

E'er seek new spoils and by the strong hand live. 

While ye ! — your very robes are saffron-wrought 8o ° 

And purple-dyed. Ye hug your beds : ye love 

To trifle in the dance, with arms encased 

In sleeves, and ribboned mitres on your heads. 

Ay, Phrygian women, not e'en Phrygian men 

Are ye ! Go to the heights of Dindymus, s °5 

And list the thrilling of the pipe, for so 

Ye wont. Your mother's timbrel and her flute 

Of Berecynthian wood are calling you 

To Ida's hills. Leave w r ar to men, and throw 

Your swords away." 

No more Ascanius bore 8l ° 

The insult of his brag and diatribe. 
Confronting him, he to his arrow strained 
The horse-hair string, drew wide apart his arms, 
And standing then awhile in prayer to Jove, 
Thus lifted up to him a suppliant's vows : 8l 5 

" Almighty Jove, my bold endeavor aid ! 
So to thy temple-gates with mine own hand 
Will I bring hallowed gifts, and sacrifice 
Upon thine altar-front a snow white steer 
With gilded horns, that butts and paws the sand, 82 ° 



3°° 



THE ^NEID. 



And lifts his head no lower than his dam's." 
The Father hears, and thunders on the left 
From the serenest quarter of the sky. 
Quick twangs the fateful bow. Drawn to the head, 
The arrow with a vengeful hiss speeds on : 
Straight through the skull of Remulus it goes, 
And to his brain drives home the barb. " Go mock 
At merit with a boaster's sneer ! Be this 
The answer these twice-captured Phrygians send 
To the Rutulians ! " That and no more 8 3° 

Ascanius said. The Trojans cheer, and wild 
With joy, their courage mounts as high as heaven. 

Chanced then long-haired Apollo from the skies 
Was looking down on the Italian camp 
And battle-field. Upon the clouds he sat, s ^ 

And spake victorious lulus thus ! 
" On, with fresh courage, boy ! So mounts the way 
To glory, thou of gods the son, of gods 
To be the sire ! Under the Trojan sway, 
All wars that are to be shall one day calm 8 -*° 

To universal peace. Not Troy alone 
Is thy circumference." E'en as he spake, 
From upper air he shot, parted the winds, 
And sought Ascanius. There put he on 
Old Butes' face, who long before in Troy" 8 -*5 

Had once Anchises' armor-bearer been, 
Since then a trusty keeper at his gate, 
Selected by ^Eneas now and made 
Companion for his son. In every way 
Like this old man disguised, skin, voice, white hair, 8 5° 
Even in armor that w r as terrible 



THE ^NEID. 



In nothing but its din, Apollo came 

And spake the flushed lulus in these words : 

" Son of zEneas, let it be enough 

That thou unhurt hast with thine arrow slain 8 55 

Numanus. Great Apollo grants thee this 

Thy first achievement, neither envies he 

Thine equal skill in arms. Hereafter, boy, 

Avoid the fight." Apollo thus began, 

But fled from mortal sight ere half was said, 86 ° 

And faded in the far thin air from view. 

Then recognized the Trojan chiefs the god, 

And his divine accoutrements : they heard 

His quiver rattle as he sped, gave heed 

To Phoebus' will and word, and from the field, S6 5 

Though now his blood was up, Ascanius dragged. 

Then to the combat back they rush, and risk 

Their lives in open peril. Shouts go up 

Along the battlements the whole wall's length. 

Boldly they bend the bow; the javelin 8 7° 

They hurl. With missiles all the ground is strewn. 

The hollow helmet and the shield ring back 

Incessant showers of blows. Thickens the fight. 

So, when the rainy Kids are in the sky, 

Bursts from the west the gale and beats the earth ; 8 75 

A hurricane of hail sweeps o'er the sea, 

And Jove, terrific mid the storm, lets pour 

The winter rain and bursts the swollen cloud. 

The young chiefs Pandarus and Bitias, 
Alcanor of Mount Ida's sons, both whom 8So 

Wood-nymph Iasra in Jove's forest reared, 
Tall as their native firs and mighty hills 



3° 2 



THE ^NEID. 



And trusting to their prowess, fling wide back 

The gate committed to their chieftainship, 

And dare the foe to charge upon the walls. S8 5 

They in the portal stand like turrets twain 

At right and left, armed with the sword, their tall 

Heads plumed and flashing brilliantly. So, high 

In air anear some river's bank, along 

The borders of the Po or by the stream 8 9° 

Of gentle Athesis, twin towering oaks 

Lift up their leafy heads to heaven, and wave 

The foliage of their tops. The Rutuli, 

Soon as they see an entrance open, charge : 

Quercens is up — that handsome cavalier 8 95 

Aquicolus — Haemon true son of Mars — 

And the impetuous Tmarus. But routed all, 

They either turn their backs or else lay down 

Their lives e'en on the threshold of the gate. 

Each for himself, no oneness of command, 900 

The panic grows. At this, the Trojans mass 

Their gathering forces : hand to hand they fight, 

Emboldened e'en to sally from their works. 

To Turnus chief, storming and routing all 
Before him in another quarter, posts 905 

A messenger announcing that the foe 
Fresh havoc make, and open throw their gates. 
He leaves the work in hand, wrought to the pitch 
Of rage, and rushes to the Trojan port 
Where stand the haughty pair. He hurls his spear 910 
And first strikes down Antiphates — the first 
To cross his path — the great Sarpedon's son 
Got by a Theban mother's slip. The shaft 



THE .ENEID. 



3°3 



Of good Italian cornel cuts the air, 

And, penetrating at the throat, is lodged 9»5 

Deep in his heart. Dark yawns the wound ; forth spouts 

A tide of blood, the spear head simmering 

In his gashed vitals. Then, at hand to hand, 

He Merops, Erymas, Aphidnus kills, 

And Bitias next, who foams with rage, his eyes 920 

A glare of fire, — not with the javelin slain, 

For ne'er to javelin had he yielded life ; 

But with a mighty wail a great slung spear 

Had sped, driven like a thunderbolt. Not two 

Bulls' hides, nor trusty coat of mail, though wrought 9^5 

With double rings of gold, could bear that shock : 

The ponderous frame goes crashing down \ earth 

groans 
Beneath ; above him thunders his huge shield. 
So falls at Baiae, on the Eubcean shore, 
Some pile of rocks which, towering high in air, 930 
They topple over in the sea : it drags 
Down ruin in its fall, and, settling, sinks 
Straight to the bottom of the deep : the waves 
The vortex fill ; the dark sea-sands boil up : 
Quake with the sound the heights of Prochyta; 935 
And quakes Inarime, the rugged bed 
That Jove's command hath for Typhceus set. 

Now hath the war-god Mars breathed strength and 

zeal 
Into the Latins' breasts, and pricked their souls, 
But sent the Trojans flight and gloomy fear. 940 

The foe mass for the charge. Now that the fight 
Is on, the warrior god inspires their hearts. 



3 04 THE ^NEID. 



But soon as Pandarus his brother sees 

A corse upon the ground, sees fortune turned, 

And what the crisis is, with all his strength, 945 

His brawny shoulders at the work, he shuts 

The gate upon its swinging hinge, and leaves, 

Fenced out beyond the walls, there fighting still, 

Many a Trojan friend, yet in the rush 

Lets and bars in with him a mass of foes. 95° 

Fool ! that he saw not the Rutulian king 

Come dashing through the centre of the throng. 

And shut him recklessly inside the camp 

Like some huge tiger mid a flock of sheep. 

A fiercer light shot from his eyes : his arms 955 

Rang panic ; fluttered crimson red 

The plumes upon his helm ; and from his shield 

Flashed back the gleaming light ; till suddenly 

And terror-struck the Trojans recognize 

That hated face and that gigantic frame. 960 

Ablaze with anger at his brother's death 

Forth leaps huge Pandarus and cries : " Not here 

Dost thou invade Amata's palace court, 

The dowry of thy bride ! Not Ardea now 

Her Turnus nurses in his native town ! 965 

Thou see'st the encampment of a foe : nor canst 

Thou hence escape ! " But Turnus, undisturbed, 

But laughs at him : " Come on, if thou art not 

A coward ! Strike ! and thou shalt Priam tell 

That here too an Achilles thou didst meet." 970 

E'en as he spake, straining at every nerve 

The other hurled a spear all rough with knots, 

The bark still on. It wounded but the air : 



THE .ENEID. 



3°5 



Saturnian Juno came diverting it, 

And in a post it stuck. " Not so shalt thou 975 

Escape the shaft this stout right arm of mine 

Doth wield ! Not such the weapon or the wound 

I strike ! " is Turnus' answer, as to full 

Height rising, with his lifted sword he drives 

The keen blade through the forehead of the chief 9 8 ° 

Straight 'twixt the eyes, and with a yawning cut 

Asunder cleaves his beardless cheeks. A crash 

Is heard: earth trembles with the ponderous fall. 

A wreck of flesh and bone, an ooze of blood 

And brains, dead on the ground he falls. His head, 935 

Cut half and half, on either shoulder hangs. 

In the hot haste of fear, the Trojans turn 

Their backs and fly apart, and had it then 

But entered in the victor's mind to burst 

With his own hand the bolts, open the gates, 990 

And let his own men in, that day had been 

The last day of the war and of the race. 

But fury and the mad desire to kill 

Drive him still flaming on against the foe. 

'Tis Phalaris and hamstrung Gyges first 995 

He overtakes and, as they fly from him, 
Snatches their spears and gores them in the back. 
Juno inspires him strength and soul. To them 
Halys he adds and Phegeus whom he stabs 
Straight through his shield, and slaughters other 
chiefs IOO ° 

Who, unaware of his approaching them, 
Still shout the battle cry upon the walls — 
Alcander and Noemon, Halius 
20 



306 THE ^NEID. 



And Prytanis. Upon the battlement 
With his quick gleaming sword, nerved to the blow, IO °5 
He Lynceus kills — who makes at him and warns 
The rest — and far his head and helmet sends 
Clipped at close quarters at a single stroke. 
Next Amycus the Hunter low he lays, 
Who in the art of polishing a shaft IOI ° 

Or poisoning a dart no rival had ; 
Then Clytius the son of ^Eolus ; 
And Creteus to the muses dear — their friend 
Who loved the lute and song, and loved to set 
The numbers to the strings, and always sang m IOI 5 
Of steeds and heroes' feats and battle-fields. 
Until at last the Trojan chiefs Mnestheus 
And bold Serestus, learning how their friends 
Are slaughtered, come together. Soon as they 
Behold their comrades routed, and the foe 102 ° 

Within the gates, shouts Mnestheus : " Whither fly 
Ye then ? Where would ye go ? What other walls, 
Or camp have ye than these ? Shall but one man, 
And he, O citizens, hedged round about 
By our own ramparts — not a blow struck back — 102 5 
■ Do such a slaughter in our streets, and send 
So many of our chiefs to hell ! Ye knaves, 
For your poor country, for your ancient gods, 
For great ^Eneas have ye then no sense 
Of pity or of shame ? " Fired by his words, io 3° 

They rally and close up their ranks again. 
Little by little Turnus from the fight 
Falls back and edges toward the river, where 
The camp is bordered by its flow. At this 



THE iENEID. 



307 



The Trojans but the more with lusty shouts IQ 35 

Charge on and reinforce their numbers. So 
A band of hunters with relentless steel 
Attack some raging lion, that on guard 
Yet fierce and glaring savagely retreats : 
Nor rage nor native courage lets him turn IO -*° 

His back : nor can he, howsoever he would, 
Against the hunters and their weapons fly. 
Not less doth Turnus cautiously bear back 
His guarded steps, his heart on fire with rage : 
Nay, twice e'en then the centre of the foe IO -*5 

He charges \ twice their routed column drives 
Flying along the walls. But soon on him 
Alone set all the forces of the camp. 
' Nor dares Saturnian Juno grant him power 
To beat them off, for Jove from heaven hath sent io 5° 
The ethereal Iris to his sister down 
To give stern warning that her Turnus draw 
From off the Trojan walls. Then nor with shield 
Nor sword the chief can more endure. At large 
He throws his arms away, and headlong runs. io 5s 
Round his helmed head his casque rings with the blows 
That batter it incessantly, and e'en 
His solid brazen armor cracks beneath 
A shower of stones. His plume from off his head 
Is torn : His buckler shatters in the storm : Io6 ° 

The Trojans with their spears upon him press, 
With Mnestheus thundering at their head. Sweat pours 
From top to toe its clammy tide : his breath 
Is spent : he pants so hard his tired frame shakes, 



3 o8 THE ^ENEID. 



Till in the nick of time, at but a bound, Io6 5 

With all his armor on, into the stream 

He leaps. Within its yellow tide it takes 

Him at his coming; on its tender breast 

It bears him forth, and rinsing off the blood 

Sends him rejoicing back to his allies. io 7° 



TENTH BOOK. 

1\ /TEANTIME heaven's mighty halls are opened 

-*-*-*- wide. 

The father of the gods and king of men, 

Jove calls a council on the starry heights. 

Uplifted there he looks on all the earth, 

The Latin legions and the Trojan camp. 5 

The court is filled, open at either side, 
And Jove begins : " Ye mighty ones of heaven, 
Why hath your purpose changed ? Why wrangle ye 
So bitterly ? That Italy should greet 
The Trojans to a. battle-field, I had IO 

Forbid. What means this disobedience, 
When I say Nay ? What is't ye fear, that ye 
Stir these or those to take up arms and wield 
The sword ? War in due time — anticipate 
It not — shall come when on the Roman towers *s 
Fierce Carthage shall let devastation loose, 
And ope a gateway through the Alps. Then hate 
May rend, and ravage stalk. But now give o'er ; 
Be it your joy to make the pact of peace." 

Thus briefly Jove. But not so brief the words 2 ° 
Of gold that fall from Venus' lips : "O sire, 
Of mind and matter the eternal spring, 
On whom now can we call if not on thee ! 
Thou see'st the insults of these Rutuli : 
How in his shining chariot right and left 2 5 



3i o TH E ;ENEID. 



This Tnrnns lords it puffed with victory. 

Even their own enclosure of the camp 

Gives shelter to the Trojans now no more. 

Nay, e'en within their gates, within their walls, 

The battle fares : their ditches swim with blood. ^° 

./Eneas is away and knows it not. 

Troy born again, wilt thou ne'er raise its siege ? 

Shall threat it yet a second time the foe, 

Another army ? And shall Diomed 

Once more against the Trojans lead, this time 35 

From Arpi, the ^Etolians ! Nay, meseems 

That my own wounds must needs revive again, 

And*I, thy child, must stoop to mortal sword ! 

If 'gainst thy peace, against thy will have come 

The men of Troy to Italy, let them 40 

Their crime atone ; nor help them with thine aid : 

But if they follow but the oracles 

That gods above and shades below so oft 

Have o'er and o'er again declared to them, 

Why now should any one have power to set 4 5 

Thy word aside or reconstruct the fates ? 

Why call to mind the burning of their fleet 

On Eryx' shore ! or how the king of storms 

The mad winds in ^Eolia did loose ! 

Or Iris, sent from heaven ! E'en now — one last s° 

Untried resort — Alecto scours from hell, 

Pricked sudden on by some of our great ones, 

And raves the Italian cities through and through ! 

Longer for empire care I naught. For that 

We hoped while fortune favored : let them win 55 

Whom thou preferr'st to win. Yet if there be 



THE ^NEID. 3II 



Nowhere a realm thy unrelenting spouse 

Can grant the Trojans, then O Father Jove, 

By ruined Troy's still smoking waste I beg, 

Let me at least in safety from the war . 

Bear off Ascanius — let my grandson live! 

Him let me have the power to shield and lead 

Out of the perils of the fight, though still 

^Eneas tossed on unknown seas may go 

Wherever fortune points the way. Mine own 6 5 

Is Amathus, mine Paphos' heights and mine 

Lofty Cythera and the Idalian groves ; 

There let him live inglorious, there hang up 

His arms. Bid Carthage lay its heavy yoke 

On Italy : naught sprung from him shall then 7° 

Block the advancement of the Tyrian state. 

What worth that in their quest for Latium, 

Affreighted with the germ of the new Troy, 

The Trojans from the war have 'scaped unharmed, 

Have run the gantlet of the Grecian fires, 75 

And have by flood and on the desert waste 

So many perils passed ! Better they laid 

Their ashes in their native land — the soil 

Where once stood Troy ! Give these poor Trojans 

back, 
I beg, their Xanthus and their Simois, 8o 

And let them, Father, yet again live o'er 
The miseries of Ilium ! " Stung then 
With fury to the quick, queen Juno cried : 
"Why force me break the deeps of secrecy 
Or tell the crowd my hidden grief ? What god 8 5 
Or man hath bid ^Eneas go to war, 



3 i2 THE ^NEID. 



Or made the Latin king his enemy ? 

The fates forced him to Italy ! they say ; 

What then ! 'twas mad Cassandra cheated him. 

Did we advise him to forsake his camp, 90 

Trust to the winds his life, or to a boy 

Commit the issue of the war, while he 

Alliance with the Tuscans seeks, and sets 

Mild-going peoples by the ears ? What god, 

What unrelenting spite of mine hath forced 95 

Him in a trap ? Where is the trace as yet 

Of Juno's hand, or what to do with me 

Had Iris' message from the clouds? Great shame, 

Indeed, that the Italians ring with flames 

This new-born Troy, and Turnus stands his ground 10 ° 

Upon his native soil, whose grandfather 

Pilumnus was, his mother the divine 

Venilia ! How is't when Trojans too 

The vengeful firebrand at the Latins hurl, 

Lord it o'er fields that are not theirs, and bear I0 5 

The plunder off ! What, when they kidnap wives 

At will, and from the embrace of lovers snatch 

Their plighted ones ; with strong hand dictate peace ; 

And set the battle-standard on their decks ! 

yEneas thou canst rescue from the Greeks, IIQ 

Wrap him around with cloud and viewless air, 

And turn his boats into as many nymphs. 

I'st then a crime that on the other side 

I have a little helped the Rutuli ? 

sEneas is away and knows it not! ix s 

Then let him stay away and know it not. 

Thine, say'st thou, Paphos and Idalium, 



THE ^NEID. 



3*3 



And thine Cythera's heights ! Why then essay 

A realm at war's hard cost, or strain at hearts 

That love thee not ? Besides, is't we who seek I2 ° 

To overturn this sickly Phrygian state ? 

We ! Nay, who was it to the Greeks exposed 

These Trojans knaves ? How happed it that to blows 

Europe and Asia came and broke their peace 

Because of fraud ? Did I induce from Troy, I2 s 

To outrage Sparta, an adulterer ? 

Did I provoke to arms, or nurse the war 

Through Cupid's arts ? 'Twas then thou shoulds't 

have had 
Some caution for thine own. Unjust and late 
This whining now, these insolent weak flings." x 3° 

So Juno spake : and the celestials all 
Murmured their various assent. So stirs 
The wind's first breath that rustles in the woods, 
Breathing an undertone, betokening 
The mariner the rising of the storm. *35 

Ruler of all, the Almighty Father then 
Began, and while he spake the lofty courts 
Of heaven were still, still the awed earth, and still 
The ethereal heights. The very winds did hush, 
And ocean calmed its billows to repose. J -*° 

" Give ear and let my words sink deep. To terms 
The Italians and the Trojans cannot come, 
It seems, nor doth your quarrel have an end. 
As fortune stands with either side this day, 
Be it with Trojan or Rutulian — x 45 

Whatever hope hath either — I will have 
No favor shown ; I care not, be it fate, 



3i4 



THE yENEID. 



Or blunder on the part of Troy misled 

By lying oracles, that round its walls 

The Italian hosts encamp, besieging them. J 5<> 

Nor will I spare in aught the Rutuli. 

They each must bide the risk and fate they tempt : 

King over all alike is Jupiter \ 

Fate shall be fate." He nails it with an oath — 

By Styx, his brother's flood, and by its banks ^s 

With pitch and yawning whirlpools washed. All 

heaven 
Quakes at his nod. Speech at an end, Jove moves 
From off his golden throne. Ranged on each side, 
Him the celestials to the gates escort. 

Meantime the Rutuli at every port l6 ° 

Press up. They strew the ground with dead, and gird 
The walls with fire. Pent up within their works 
The Trojans are at bay, all hope cut off 
Of their escape. There sadly and in vain 
Upon the turret-tops they stand, and line l6 5 

Their circling ramparts with a thin defence — 
Their leaders, Asius son of Imbrasus, 
Thymcetes, Hicetaon's son, the two 
Assaraci, Thymbris the veteran, 

And Castor, and in company with them l 7° 

Sarpedon's twins from famous Lycia, 
Clarus and Themon. Straining every nerve 
A hugh rock Acmon of Lyrnessus hurls 
Big as a mountain crag — himself no less 
A warrior than his brother Mnestheus e'en, l 7S 

Or Clytius his sire. The Rutuli 
With javelins charge; the Trojans fend them off 



THE .ENEID. 



315 



With showers of stones, fling balls of fire, and draw 
The arrow to the head. Amid it all, - 
The worthiest idol he of Venus' heart, l8 ° 

Behold the Trojan boy's unhelmeted 
And noble head, that like a jewel set 
In yellow gold doth from a necklace flash, 
Or crown ! So skilfully inlaid in box 
Or in Orician wood the ivory gleams. l8 5 

Milk-white the neck that breaks the tumbling hair 
That with a slender band of gold is caught. 
Thee also, Ismarus — thou noble son 
Of Lydia, where they till rich farms and where 
Pactolus irrigates the soil with gold — I 9° 

Those mighty hosts behold inflicting wounds 
And poisoning the arrow-tips of war. 
There too is Mnestheus who but yesterday 
Beat Turnus from the w T alls and rose to fame, 
And Capys, who gave name to Capua. l 9S 

While thus they dealt war's hard blows back and 
forth, 
^Eneas in the dead of night his way 
Was cleaving down the stream. For, when he went 
Straight from Evander to the Etrurian camp, 
He spake its chieftain and to him made known 2 °° 
His name and nation, what he sought, and what 
He could contribute of his own : told him 
Who the allies Mezentius had gained, 
And how malignant Turnus' character : 
Warned him how false and fickle is the world, 2 °5 

And wove his own entreaties in. No time 
Is lost. Tarchon joins forces and strikes hands. 



3 i6 THE ^NEID. 



Then, fate fulfilled, the Tuscan host embark, 

As bade the gods, under a foreign chief. 

yEneas' galley leads — its figure-head 2I ° 

Two Phrygian lions underneath the beak, 

While overhanging them Mount Ida leans, 

Sweet to the eyes of Trojan wanderers. 

In this sits great ^Eneas and revolves 

In thought the various phases of the war ; 2I 5 

While Pallas close beside him questions him 

About the stars, of how to steer at night, 

Of his adventures on the land and sea. 

Throw open Helicon, ye Muses, now ! 
Breathe on me while I sing what troops meantime 22 ° 
Come with ^Eneas from the Tuscan shores, 
Manning his fleet and floating down the stream ! 

First, in the Tiger with its brazen beak, 
Massicus cleaves the waves, under whose lead 
A thousand fighting-men bid Clusium's walls 22 5 

And Cosae's streets adieu, with arrows armed, 
And quiver on the shoulder lightly borne 
And the death-dealing bow. Bold Albas him 
Doth flank, his troops in glittering armor clad, 
His boat resplendent with Apollo carved 2 3° 

In gold. His native Populonia 
Hath given him six hundred veterans ; 
And Ilva's isle, rich inexhaustibly 
In iron mines, three hundred more. The third 
Is that Asylas who the purposes 2 35 

Of men and gods doth read, and unto whom 
The entrails of the flock, the stars of heaven, 
The tongues of birds, the lightning's prescient flash 



THE iENEID. 



317 



Make revelation. To the front he leads, 

In order close and bristling thick their spears, 2 4° 

A thousand men whom Pisa, colonized 

From Elis but engraft on Tuscan soil, 

Hath put at his command. Then following him, 

Firm in the saddle he, and picturesque 

With many colors, handsome Astur comes, 2 45 

Three hundred soldiers his, who follow him 

And have no other thought — some from their home 

In Caere, some who dwell on Minio's plains, 

Some from old Pyrgi or Graviscae's fogs. 

Nor will I, Cinyras, forget thy name, 2 5° 

Thou bravest war-chief of the Ligures ; 
Nor thine, Cupavo, though thy train be small, 
The swan-plumes waving o'er thy head to mark 
The shape thy father took, whose crime and thine 
Was that ye loved too well. For goes the tale, 2 55 
That Cycnus grieved for Phaethon his friend, 
And sang of him beneath the poplar leaves 
Under the shade the transformed sisters cast. 
His sorrow for his dead friend solaced he 
With poesy, until in hoar old age 26 ° 

There grew on him soft plumage, and from earth 
He soared, and as his songs rose to the stars 
So he did follow them. And now his son, 
His followers good as any in the fleet, 
Rows the huge Centaur, with a figure-head 26 5 

That plunges in the tide or, towering high, 
Threatens a monstrous boulder at the wave, 
Furrowing the waters with its keel afar. 

And Ocnus too, son of the prophetess 



3 i8 THE ^ENEID. 



Manto and of the Tuscan river god, 2 7° 

Summons his cohorts from his native shores. 

He gave thee, Mantua, his mother's name — 

Mantua affluent in thine ancestry 

Not of a single but of three-fold stock ! 

Four cities and one nation — Mantua was 2 75 

Its capital ; its Tuscan blood its strength. 

Five hundred soldiers* thence to fight him hath 

Mezentius provoked : Fringed with its sedge 

Of green, the Mincius bears them to the sea 

In their war-craft from lake Benacus' source. 28 ° 

Comes stout Aulestes rising to the stroke 
And lashing with a hundred oars the tide. 
The furrowed waters foam. Great Triton flings 
The blue waves from its shell and bears him on: 
Its hairy trunk far as the middle wears 28 s 

A human form and thence the belly flows 
Into a fish, while 'neath its half- wild breast 
Murmurs the rippling tide. Their brazen beaks 
Ploughing the deep to bear the Trojans aid, 
In thirty boats go thirty chosen chiefs. 2 9° 

And now the light had faded from the sky, 
And the fair moon, half her night-journey done, 
Was trembling in the heavens. Anxiety 
Gave to ^Eneas' limbs no rest. Astern 
He sits, and with his own hand guides the helm 2 95 
And trims the sails, when lo ! mid-stream there come 
A band of his own ones to meet him — nymphs, 
To whom good Cybele gives mastery o'er 
The deep — the very nymphs that she had bid 
His boats to be. On, side by side, they swim 300 



THE ^NEID. 



319 



And cut the ripples, none the less nor more 

Than late the brazen beaks that lined the strand. 

While yet afar, they recognize their king, 

And throng in choirs around him. Of them all, 

Cymodocea, readiest of speech, 305 

Follows astern, her right hand on the boat, 

Her left a noiseless paddle 'neath the waves, 

Her shoulders rising up above the stream. 

Thus speaks she him all ignorant who she is : 

"Wak'st thou, ALneas, scion of the gods? 310 

Awake, and set all sail ! We are the pines 

That grew on Ida's sacred top — thy fleet, 

Now naiads of the sea. The treacherous 

Rutulian pressed us hard with fire and steel : 

Reluctantly we broke our moorings then 315 

To search the stream for thee. 'Twas Cybele 

Who, pitying us, re-made us in this shape, 

And gave us to be goddesses and live 

Beneath the waves. But all this while thy boy 

Ascanius, cooped in by wall and ditch, 320 

The Latins up in arms, fights hand to hand. 

Already the Arcadian cavalry 

And the brave Tuscans have their forces joined 

Where they were bid. But Turnus is resolved 

To intercept them with his troops, so they 32s 

Join not the camp. Rise, and at peep of dawn 

Bid thou thy men be called at once to arms, 

And take thyself the impenetrable shield 

Vulcan's own hand did give thee and with gold 

Did blazon it! To-morrow's sun — unless 330 

Thou thinks't my words are but an idle dream — 



3 2 ° 



THE ;ENEID. 



Shall see great masses of Rutulian dead." 

This said, with her right hand — not ignorant how — 
She gave the lofty stern a parting push, 
And o'er the tide it flew swifter than spear 335 

Or arrow rivaling the wind. At this 
The other nymphs impel the other boats. 
Although himself uncertain and amazed, 
Bravely the Trojan chief, Anchises' son, 
His comrades with the omen cheers, and thus, 340 
His eyes to heaven uplifted, briefly prays : 
"Good mother of the gods, on Ida shrined, 
Who Dindymus and cities crowned with towers 
Dost love, and yokest lions to thy car, 
Now be thou first to help me in the fight ! 345 

Make sure the augury and, goddess, cheer 
The Trojans with thy hovering guardianship." 
No more he spake, for now returning day 
Poured its full light and drove the night afar. 

At once he bids his men the signals note, 350 

Put mettle in their arms, and for the fight 
Prepare. For standing now upon the stern, 
Soon as he sees the Trojans and his camp, 
He on the instant lifts with his left hand 
His blazing shield. The Trojans on the walls ? :; 
Shout high as heaven. Hope gained and courage 

fired, 
They hurl a shower of missiles. So beneath 
The murky clouds the cranes of Strymon scream, 
As noisily they swim the air and fly 
The south wind with their happy cries. . The king s 66 
Of the Rutulians and the Italian chiefs 



THE ^ENEID. 



Wonder what means it all, till they look back 

And see the boats now making for the shore, 

And the whole river ridden by a fleet. 

Shines there the helmet on ^Eneas' head, — 365 

Like flame the plumes that flutter from its crest, 

While shafts of fire stream from his golden shield. 

So, in the tranquil night, forebodingly 

The fiery comet flashes ; so the blaze 

Of Sirius, bringing drought and pestilence, 370 

Upon a fever-stricken world doth rise 

And sadden with its baleful glare the heavens. 

But falters not bold Turnus' firm resolve 
To anticipate the shore and from the land 
The invaders drive. With words of cheer he lifts 375 
The courage of his men, and spurs them thus : 
" The moment now hath come to crush the foe 
For which ye long have hoped and prayed to heaven. 
Soldiers, the war is now in your own hands ! 
Now every man remember wife and home ! 3S0 

Now call to mind the mighty deeds that are 
The glory of your sires ! Quick charge the shore 
While, panic-struck, they disembarking slip 
Upon the brink ! Luck fights on valor's side." 
This said, he questions with himself which troops 3S5 
To lead to the encounter, and with which 
To leave the prosecution of the siege. 

Meantime JEneas lands his men on planks 
That from the lofty barges lead. Some wait 
The ebbing of the lazy tide and leap 390 

Into the shallows, or -are buoyed on oars. 
But Tarchon notes an inlet where there boil 



322 THE ^NEID. 



No eddies, where no surf roars back, but smooth 

The sea flows full tide in. There quick he turns 

His prows and calls upon his men : " O now 395 

My chosen band, pull with a lusty stroke ; 

Out of the water lift and force your craft ; 

Split with your beaks this hostile strand, and let 

Your keels their own deep furrows plough ! In such 

A berth the land once gained, I count it naught 4 °° 

Though we do stave our boats." So Tarchon spake ; 

The men rose with a will upon their oars 

And drove afoam their boats 'gainst Latium's soil 

Until each beak lay high and dry aground — 

Each boat there safely beached save, Tarchon, thine. 

For while, upon the shallows dashed, it hung 

On wavering keel, in doubt long balancing, 

And made the waves impatient, it o'erturned 

And in mid-water cast the crew, where they 

With broken oars and floating thwarts struck out 4I ° 

And lost their footing in the under-tow. 

No sluggard Turnus ; his whole battle line 
He at the Trojans fiercely hurls. At bay 
He holds them on the shore. The trumpets sound. 
At once JEneas strikes the rustic troops, — 415 

Auspicious omen of the fight. He mows 
The Latins down, and Theron kills, who dared — 
The bulkiest of their chiefs — cross swords with him, 
And whose gashed side he pierces with his blade 
Straight through his shield of brass and golden mail. 4 2 ° 
Next Lycas, cut from his dead mother's womb, 
He slays, whom, Phoebus, thou did'st sacred hold, 
Because 'twas given him, though but a babe, 



THE ^ENEID. 



3 2 3 



To 'scape the peril of the knife. He strikes 

The doughty Cisseus and huge Gyas dead, 425 

As near him with their clubs they rout whole lines. 

Of no avail to them are now the arms 

Of Hercules, their own stout hands, or e'en 

Their sire Melampus, who the comrade was 

Of Hercules while earth imposed on him 430 

The heavy labors of his life. Lo ! then 

He gives his spear a twist and drives it down 

The empty boaster Pharus' bawling throat. 

Thou, too, poor Cydon, reckless of the love 
Of thy companions, while thou followedst 435 

Thy new-found treasure Clytius, with his cheeks 
Tinged with their earliest down, had'st pitiably 
Lain low, struck by that Trojan hand, had not 
The sons of Phorcus — a united band 
Of brothers — come between. In number seven, 440 
They hurl seven spears at once. Some from his helm 
And shield glance harmless off • good Venus turns 
The rest away so they but graze his side. 
Faithful Achates then ^Eneas calls : 
" Bring me the weapons here with which I pierced 445 
The bodies of the Greeks on Ilium's plains. 
This right hand at the Rutuli shall aim 
Not one of them in vain." Then snatches he 
And hurls a ponderous spear : Swift through the air 
It flies, and cuts through Maeon's shield of brass, 450 
Gashing at once his breast-plate and his breast. 
Alcanor rushes to his brother's aid, 
And with his right hand stays him as he falls. 
At him speeds instantly another spear, 



3^4 THE ^NEID. 



Pierces his arm, and hits its bloody aim : 455 

By but the tendons of his shoulder held, 

His dying hand hangs down. Then Numitor, 

Snatching the javelin from his brother's corse 

Makes at ^Eueas : him it may not wound, 

But grazes past the great Achates' thigh. 460 

Clausus of Cures, trusting in his youth, 
Advances now and slaughters Dryopes : 
Under his chin the tough spear from afar 
Is driven hard home: piercing his throat, at once 
Of voice and life it robs him while he shouts : 465 

His forehead strikes the ground, and from his mouth 
Gushes a stream of blood. Three Thracians too, 
Of Boreas' noble stock, with various hap 
He kills, and three whom father Iras sent 
From their Ismarian fatherland. Up come 470 

Halaesus and the Auruncan troops in line ; 
Rides up Messapus, brilliantly equipped, 
A son of Neptune he. In turn, each side 
The other seeks to drive. It is a fight 
For the first foot-hold on Italian soil. 475 

With equal violence and fury meet 
The mad blasts of the hurricane, nor sea 
Nor cloud nor writhing wind doth yield : long time 
The issue hangs in doubt and all the world 
Is with itself at war. Not otherwise 4S0 

The battle-tug of Troy and Latium, 
As foot to foot and man to man they press. 

Farther along the line, where far and wide 
The swollen streams had scattered drifts of rocks 
And piled the banks with trunks of fallen trees, < s 5 



THE ^NEID. 325 



Pallas beholds the Arcadian cavalry, 

Unused to fight on foot, fast falling back 

Before the advancing Latins. Nothing else 

Is left in their extremity, so rough 

The nature of the ground, but to dismount. ^° 

He on the instant, now with prayers and now 

With imprecations, plucks their courage up. 

" Where, comrades, do ye fly ? For your own sakes, 

For your brave record's sake, and for the name 

Of king Evander and your victories, 495 

Ay, for my hopes that spring to emulate 

My father's glory, trust not to your heels ! 

The sword must hew a highway through the foe 

Where densest press their ranks. The noble land 

That gave you birth there summons you and me 500 

Your chief. No god forbids. Mortals ourselves, 

'Tis but a mortal enemy we meet, 

Our hearts as brave, our numbers great as theirs. 

Lo ! here the sea imprisons us within 

Its mighty barrier. There no room for flight 505 

Is left us now. Is't for the tide we make, 

Or for the Trojan camp ? " And as he spake, 

He charged the very centre of the foe. 

The first by cruel fate impelled to cross • 
His path, comes Lagus whom, while stooping down 510 
To tear up from the ground a ponderous stone, 
He bores, writhed on his spear just where the spine 
Divides the ribs midway, and tries to draw 
The spear-head out still sticking in the bones. 
And Hisbo too, though high his hopes are raised, 515 
Takes him not unawares, for Pallas, while 



326 THE ^NEID. 



The other, raving at his friend's hard fate, 

Advances recklessly, quick faces him 

And drives his sword into his heaving breast. 

Next Sthenelus, and then Anchemolus 520 

Of Rhcetus' rusty stock, who dared the bed 

Of his step-mother violate, he slays. 

Ye, too, O Thymber and Lerides, fall, 

Twin sons of Daucus, on Rutulian fields, 

So like each other that your friends could ne'er 525 

Tell you apart — a puzzle that did please 

Your parents — till now Pallas 'twixt you draws 

Harsh lines of difference ; for Evander's sword 

Doth rob thee, Thymber, of thy head, and thou — 

Thy severed hand, Lerides, gropes to find 530 

Its trunk, the lifeless fingers quivering, 

And reaching still to grasp the sword again. 

Stung by their chief's rebuke, beholding too 
His valorous blows, a mingled sense of shame 
And rage inspires the Arcadians to meet 535 

The foe. Pallas, as Rhcetus in his car 
Sweeps past, transfixes him. ■ The interval 
Postpones the death of Ilus for a space. 
For Pallas had afar at Ilus aimed 
His powerful spear, and Rhcetus in its way 540 

Had come while, noble Teuthras, in full flight 
From thee and from thy brother Tyres. Dragged 
Behind the car, he ploughs the Italian soil 
With his half-lifeless heels. So when the winds 
In summer rise, the shepherd rashly sets 545 

The spreading fire amid the underwood : 
It catches first the centre of the pile, 



THE ^NEID. 



327 



•Then, one wild blazing sheet, it sweeps across 

The open fields, while he sits conqueror 

And gazes on the exulting flames. So round 55° 

Thee, Pallas, cluster, rushing to thy aid, 

All thy brave comrades. But against their ranks 

Halaesus bold in battle charges up, 

Throws his whole soul into his arms, and kills 

Ladon and Pheres and Demodocus ; 55^ 

With gleaming sword Strymonius' right hand 

He clips, as at his throat it springs ; he staves 

The face of Thoas with a rock — a mass 

Of bones and blood and brains outspattering. 

His sire, prophetic of his fate, had hid 560 

Halaesus in the woods, but when in death 

The old man closed his fainting eyes, the Fates 

Seized on the son and to Evander's spear 

Made him a sacrifice. Him Pallas sought 

With first a prayer — "Grant, Father Tiber, now 565 

The iron shaft I poise good fortune have, 

And find its way through grim Halaesus' heart ! 

Thy oak shall wear the hero's belt and arms." 

Heard him the god ; and while Halaesus shields 

Imaon, he exposes lucklessly . 570 

His open breast to the Arcadian's steel. 

Not e'en at such a hero's death dismayed, 
Lausus, himself a host, leaps from the ranks : 
He lays low Abas, first to cross his path, 
Who was the knurl and bulwark of the fight. 575 

Down go the Arcadian youth : the Tuscans fall ; 
Ye too, ye Trojans, whom the Greeks slew not. 
The hosts together rush, nor either hath 



328 THE ^ENEID. 



A better captain or a stouter force. 

The rear ranks press the front, so thick the throng s So 

Nor hand nor weapon can be raised : while face 

To face, here Pallas urges on the charge, 

And Lausus there — not much apart in years, 

Each of a noble shape, yet each by fate 

Denied e'er to return to native land. 585 

But high Olympus' king suffered them not 

To meet; their speedy fortune 'twas for each 

To fall beneath a mightier foeman's steel. 

Meantime Turnus' fair sister warns him fly 
To Lausus' aid. In his swift car he cleaves 590 

The battle ranks. Soon as he sees his friends, 
He cries : " Now, bear ye from the fight. Alone 
Let me on Pallas charge; to me alone 
Is Pallas due-. I would his father now 
Were witness here." He' speaks, and his allies 595 
Fall back as bid, to give him room. 'Tis then, 
As part the Rutuli, and as the youth 
In wonder lists to hear that proud command, 
On Turnus he in admiration looks, 
Rolls o'er that mighty trunk his eyes, yet dares 6o ° 
To face him with defiance in his gaze. 
Thus hurls he back the challenge of the king: 
" Now shall they laud me for the bravest spoils 
E'er won, or for a glorious death : my sire 
Will flinch at neither fate. Give o'er thy threats ! " 6o 5 
And as he speaks, into the open space 
He stalks. In each Arcadian heart the blood 
Clots cold. Leaps Turnus from his two-horse car, 
And makes on foot to meet him hand to hand : 



THE /ENEID. 339 



As forth he goes, 'tis as a lion springs 6l ° 

When from some lofty height he sees a bull 
Waiting to fight him on the plain below. 

Soon as he thought his foeman near enough 
For spear to hit, Pallas was first to strike, 
So haply luck on daring might await, 6l 5 

Though not so stout the arm. Up to high heaven 
He cried : " I pray thee, Hercules, as thou 
Didst come a stranger to my father's board, 
And wast his guest, help thou my great emprise ! 
Let Turnus in the throes of death look up 62 ° 

While I bear off his arms drenched with his gore, 
And his filmed eyes avow me conqueror ! " 
Hears Hercules the youth, and in his heart 
A mighty groan kept down and wept in vain, 
While Jupiter did kindly speak him thus : 62 5 

" Each mortal hath his day. The span of life 
For all is short, and naught can eke it out ; 
But to eternity lives on the fame 
Of glorious achievement, and in that 
Doth valor find its charge. 'Neath Troy's high walls 6 3° 
The son of many a god did fall : nay, there 
My own Sarpedon lies. Turnus as well 
To his own destiny shall yield, and reach 
The allotted measure of his years." Thus spake, 
And turned his eyes from the Rutulian fields. 6 35 

Then Pallas hurled his spear with mighty force, 
And from its hollow sheath his gleaming sword 
Drew out. Forth flew the spear and struck atop 
The plai tings of the shoulder. There it forced 
Its way along the border of the shield, 6 4° 



33o 



THE JENEID. 



And grazed at length e'en Turnus' mighty frame. 
Then poising long his shaft with its keen point 
Of steel, Turnus at Pallas drove it home 
The while he cried : " See, whether from my hand 
The weapon goes not surer to the quick." 6 45 

Ay, ere he ceased, the quivering spear had struck 
And pierced the centre of the shield, straight through 
Its plates of iron and of brass, through fold 
On fold of tough bull's hide, straight through 
The coat of mail, and bored the massive breast. 6 5° 
In vain did Pallas pluck the hot spear-head 
From out the ga*sh. With it and in its path 
His life and blood do follow it. He falls 
Upon his wound, while crashing over him 
His armor rings ; in agony of death 6 55 

He bites the cruel dust with bloody mouth. 
Above him Turnus stands, and shouts : " Bear ye, 
Arcadians, to Evander, nor forget 
My message. Pallas back, as he deserved, 
I send. Whate'er the honor of a tomb, 66 ° 

What comfort there may be in burial, 
I freely grant. But it shall cost him dear 
That he ^Eneas made his guest." While thus 
He spake, with his left foot the lifeless corse 
He pressed, and tore away the belt's huge weight, 66 s 
Its boss of horror carved in massive gold 
By rare Eurytion — the scene, a band 
Of youths all on the self-same bridal night — 
The bloody chambers there — most foully slain ! 
Such now the booty Turnus revels o'er, 6 7° 

Exulting in his spoils. But human heart 



THE iENEID. 



33* 



Ne'er its own fate or future lot forecasts, 

Nor moderation keeps, when on the wave 

Of fortune. Yet shall Turnus know the hour 

When he will wish that Pallas had been spared 6 ?5 

At any price, and these accursed spoils, 

This day, abhor. Laid on a shield, with sobs 

And tears his clustering friends bear Pallas off. 

Alas, the sorrow, yet the glorious worth, 

Of such a restoration to thy sire ! 68 ° 

One day to battle gives and takes thee from't : 

Yet heaps of slaughtered Rutuli thou leav'st ! 

Close on the rumor of so dire a hap, 
A special courier brings ^Eneas word 
That his allies are at destruction's brink, 68 5 

And that the time has come to lend his aid 
To his retreating countrymen. He lays 
About him with his sword, and with it hews 
A highway through the foe's dense ranks, — on fire 
To find thee, Turnus, while exulting yet 6 9° 

And flushed with slaughter. Naught is in his eyes 
Save Pallas and Evander, whose right hands 
First welcomed him, and to whose board had he, 
While yet a stranger, come a guest. He takes 
Alive Sulmo's four sons and Ufens' four 6 95 

To sacrifice to Pallas' ghost, and drench 
In captives' blood the flames of his death-pyre. 

He hurls his angry spear, while yet afar, 
At Magus next, who deftly stoops, lets skim 
The whizzing shaft above his head, and thus, 700 

A suppliant clinging to ^Eneas' knees, 
Cries out : " I beg thee by thy father's ghost, 



332 



THE ,ENEID. 



By blossoming lulus' hopes, spare thou 

Unto a father and a son my life ! 

A palace vast is mine. Deep buried in't 705 

Are talents of carved silver, heaps of gold 

Wrought and unwrought, — all mine. 'Tis not with me 

The victory of the Trojans is at stake : 

One life is not enough to turn the scale." 

Scarce spake he ere ^Eneas answers back : 710 

" Keep for thy sons the silver and the gold 

Of which thou say'st thou hast so many a heap! 

Turnus, in Pallas' slaughter, hath cut off 

The ransomings of war. So teaches me 

My sire Anchises' ghost; so teaches me 71s 

lulus." At the word, with his left hand 

He caught the beggar's helmet, bending back 

His neck, and stabbed him to the very hilt. 

Came up ^Emonides,— a priest was he 
Of Phoebus and Diana, round whose head 720 

A diadem of sacred fillets ran, 
All radiant in bright armor and attire. 
^Eneas met and drove him o'er the plain 
Till bending o'er his face he cut him down, 
And draped him 'neath the mighty pall of death. 725 
His arms Serestus shouldered and bore off, 
A trophy gathered, O king Mars, for thee ! 
But Caeculus, who came of Vulcan's stock, 
And Umbro, from the Marsian hills, renewed 
.The fight. ^Eneas faced and made at them: 730 

Auxur's left hand he with his sword had lopped, 
And ripped his shield's whole border with his spear. 
'Twas he had bragged, and deemed that words were 
blows ; 



THE iENEID. 



333 



Perchance he thought his life was dear to heaven, 
And counted on white hairs and length of years. 735 

Then Tarquitus, outleaping from the foe, 
His armor shining in the sun — 'twas he 
Nymph Dryope to Faunus of the woods 
Did bear — the fury of iEneas dared. 
The Trojan chief drew back his spear and made 740 
The shield and mail of his antagonist 
But to encumber him, and, even while 
He begged and would have pleaded more, struck off 
His head upon the earth. The steaming trunk 
He rolled in front of him, and over it 745 

From out his angry heart spake thus : " Lie there, 
O thou, who wert so terrible to babes ! 
Thy dearest mother ne'er shall bury thee 
In earth, nor to thy father's sepulchre 
Consign thy limbs. To savage birds shalt thou 750 
Be flung or, sunk at sea, tossed with the waves 
While hungry fishes feed upon thy wounds." 

Antaeus next and Lycas — Turnus' chiefs — 
He routs — brave Numa next, and next the son 
Of haughty Volscens, tawny Camers who 755 

Was richest of Ausonian landholders, 
King of Amyclae's solitudes. 'Twas like 
JEgzeon with, they say, his hundred arms, 
His hundred hands, his fifty blazing mouths 
And throats \ his shields and swords as many more 760 
Yet all alike, their roar e'en rivalling 
The thunderbolts of Jove. So over all 
The field, victorious ^Eneas raged, 
When once his sword was hot with blood. He faced 



334 THE ^NEID. 



And stayed Nyphaeus' double yoke of horse 765 

That, when they saw him charging up at them 
And roaring like a bull, though yet afar, 
In terror whirled upon their heels, threw out 
Their chief, and dragged the car along the shore. 

And now into the battle, Lucagus 770 

Bursts with his two-yoke car and snow-white pair, 
While at his side his brother Liger stands. 
The brother holds the reins and guides the steeds, 
But the drawn sword bold Lucagus doth wield. 
Their fury glows so fierce, ^Eneas bears 77s 

It not, but charges at them full in front, 
And, with his spear uplift, before them looms 
In all his grandeur. Liger yells at him : 
" 'Tis not the steeds of ©iomed thou see'st, 
Nor chariot of Achilles, nor the plains 780 

Of Phrygia. Now to Italy be given 
Surcease of war and thee ! " Such are the taunts 
That fly abroad from Liger's frantic lips. 
The Trojan hero heeds them not, but hurls 
His spear against his foe. 'Tis just the nick 7S5 

When Lucagus, bent forward on the lash, 
Has pricked his coursers with his javelin 
Just while, with his left foot thrown forward, he 
Prepares him for the fight. The spear goes in 
Close at the bottom of his glittering shield 790 

And thence his left groin perforates. He rolls, 
Shot from the car, a dead man on the field, 
And reverent ^Eneas curses him : 
" Not, Lucagus, the halting of thy steeds 
Hath put thy chariot in my hands ; nor hath 795 



THE ^NEID. 



335 



A ghost made them afraid to face the foe : 
Thyself, the wheels o'erleaping, hast thy car 
Abandoned." As he spake he caught the steeds. 
The hapless brother, falling too from off 
The car, kept reaching out his nerveless hands, 8o ° 
And cried : " O Trojan hero, by thyself, 
Ay, by the parents that gave birth to one 
So great, I beg thee spare this life of mine ! 
Have mercy on my prayers ! " And longer he 
Had begged, had not ^Eneas cut him short : 8 °5 

" Not this the strain in which thou spak'st but late : 
Now die ! A brother thou, thy brother ne'er 
Desert ! " And with his sword he ran him through, 
And bared the hiding places of his soul. 

Such was the havoc that the Trojan chief 8l ° 

Wrought on that field, his fury like the rush 
Of floods or angry hurricane, until 
The boy Ascanius and his troops, restrained 
At length no longer, broke and left their camp. 

Jove meantime tantalizes Juno thus : 8l 5 

" Sister at once and dearest wife of mine, 
'Tis as thou thought'st, thy judgment was not wrong ; 
'Tis Venus gives the Trojans strength. Not theirs 
The valorous arm in war, the intrepid soul, 
The endurance under fire." She answers him- 82 ° 
In all humility : " Most beautiful my lord, 
Why taunt me, who am sick and tremble when 
Thou speak'st me harshly ? Had my love the might 
That once it had and once it merited, 
Thou wouldst not now, Almighty One, deny 82 5 

Me this — power to pluck Turnus from the fight 



33^ 



THE iENEID. 



And for his father Daunus keep him safe. 
Now must he die, and with his sacred blood 
Do penance to the men of Troy. And yet, 
'Tis from the gods he traces down his stock — 8 3° 
The great-great-grandson of Pilumnus he — 
And many a time with liberal hand he hath 
Thine altars laden down with many a gift." 
Brief back the king of high Olympus spake : 
" If for this mortal doomed, delay of death 8 3s 

And but a breathing-time thou beg'st me give, 
Add wings to Turnus' flight, and rescue him 
From his impending fate. So far I may 
The favor grant. But if beneath thy prayers 
Lurk thought of farther grace, or thou dost think 8 4° 
To altogether change the war's result, 
Thou feed'st on idle hopes." Tears in her eyes, 
Him Juno answered : " Would that in thy heart 
Thou grantedst what thy words are loth to grant, 
And that the life of Turnus were assured ! 8 45 

Him innocent the blight of death awaits. 
May it not be I am misled the truth ? 
Would rather I were mocked by idle fears, 
So thou, who might'st, would'st mend thy purposes ! " 
No sooner said, than headlong from high heaven 8 5° 
The goddess plunged, enveloped in a mist, 
Trailing a tempest through the air. She sought 
The Latin camp, and — wonderful the sight ! — 
An unsubstantial vapor there she clothed 
In Trojan armor like ^Eneas' own. 8 ^5 

The crest and buckler of that godlike chief 
She counterfeits ; she gives what seems his voice — 



THE .ENEID. 



337 



An utterance that hath no soul, and types 

Even his stride: so ghosts flit after death, 

Or visions cheat the slumber-buried sense ! 86 ° 

Defiantly upon the battle's edge 

Exults the apparition. Spear in hand, 

It threatens Turnus, taunting him, till he 

Makes at it, and his whizzing javelin hurls 

Ere coming to close quarters. But it turns 86 5 

And shows its back. Then Turnus, feeling sure 

^Eneas flinched and fled, tumultuously 

Gave way to the illusion, as he cried : 

"^neas, why this haste ? Abandon not 

The chamber of thy bride ! My own right hand 8 7° 

Shall give thee here the land that o'er the sea 

Thou cam'st to find ! " So shouted he, and flashed 

His naked sword, pursuing: but saw not 

His boasts were but the plaything of the winds. 

It happed, moored at the bottom of a cliff 8 75 

There lay, its ladders out and bridge all set, 
The galley in which king Osinius 
Had thither made a voyage from Clusium's shores. 
Into its hold, all panting from the flight, 
^Eneas' shape did fling itself. As swift 8So 

Came Turnus up, o'erleaped all obstacles, 
And sprang along the dizzy bridge. But scarce 
His foot had touched the bow, when Juno cut 
The rope, and forced the boat hard off the shore 
And with the ebbing tide. And while the real 88 5 
^Eneas challenges his absent foe 
To battle, and cuts many a soldier down, 
His unsubstantial counterfeit scarce gains 
22 



338 THE ^NEID. 



The galley's hold, ere high it flies again 
And mingles with the o'erhanging clouds. The wind 8 9° 
Meantime blows Turnus out to sea. He, blind 
To circumstance, and thankless at escape, 
Looks back, and to the stars lifts up at once 
His voice and both his palms : " And hast thou thought, 
Almighty Father, that I merited Sl ^ 

Indignity like this ? Is it thy will 
That I such punishment should bear ? Where is't 
I go ? Whence is't I drift ? What is this flight? 
And what am I, when it shall let me back ? 
Shall I ne'er see again Laurentum's walls 900 

Or camp ? What of that martial host, who me 
Have followed and my standard to the war, 
And all whom — Oh, dishonor — I have left 
To shameless death! Now, now I see them fly, 
And hear their dying groans ! How can I bear't ! 905 
Or where yawns hell enough to hide my shame ! 
Ye winds, I, Turnus, plead from out my heart 
With you, rather do ye now pity me 
And 'gainst the cliff or on the breakers dash 
4 This boat, or shelter it, if that ye must, 910 

Amid the cruel quicksands and the shoals 
Where ne'er Rutulian more, nor the report 
Of such disgrace as mine shall follow me ! " 
As thus he cries, he knows not his own mind, — 
Whether, despairing at so foul a shame, 91s 

To fling himself upon his sword and drive 
Its naked blade betwixt his ribs, or leap 
Into the ocean's midst, swim to the coast 
Where it trends out, and face the Trojans' line 



THE ^NEID. 



339 



Once more. Thrice each endeavor he essays : 920 

Thrice mighty Juno holds him back, and full 

Of pity at his grief restrains the youth. 

Parting the waves he still glides on, with tide 

And current favoring, till they bear him home 

Back to his father Daunus' ancient realm. 925 

Meantime Mezentius, eager for the fray 
Pricked on by Jupiter, renews the fight, 
And charges the triumphant Trojan host. 
At this the Tuscans rally to a man — 
No thought in any heart but hate of him — 930 

And on the warrior mass their fire. He stands 
Firm as a rock that tops the mighty deep : 
It faces to the fury of the winds, 
Unshielded from the waves, enduring still 
All heaven and ocean's violence and threat, 935 

Yet e'er itself immovable. To earth 
He smiteth Hebrus, Dolichaon's son, 
And with him Latagus, and Palmus who 
Had turned to fly. A stone, a mountain rift, 
He dashes in the face of Latagus 940 

As he comes up in front, but Palmus leaves 
To roll disabled with a shattered knee. 
To Lausus he the armor gives, for him 
To fling across; his shoulder, and the plumes 
To fix upon his helm. Euanthes then, 94s 

The Phrygian, he slays, and Mimas who 
Was just the age of Paris, and his friend : 
One self-same night, to father Amycus 
Theano Mimas bore, and Hecuba 
The queen, big with a torch, gave Paris birth*. 950 



34 o THE ^ENEID. 



In his ancestral soil now Paris sleeps ; 
Mimas in Italy, his grave unknown. 

So, hunted by the hounds from off the hills, 
Some fierce wild boar, that piny Vesulus 
Or the Laurentian marsh for many a year 955 

Hath sheltered, snared at last, doth stand at bay 
With angry grunt, and bristling savagely : 
None dare provoke or nearer him approach, 
But at safe distance, harry him with yell 
And spear. He the whole circuit fearless turns, 960 
Gnashing his teeth and shaking from his back 
Their javelins. So dares Mezentius those 
Whose wrath is just, though not a man of them 
Dare meet him sword to sword, but all aloof 
Stand fretting him with missiles and loud taunts. 965 

From ancient Corythus had Akron come, 
A Greek, and a deserter who had left 
His bride unwed. W 7 hen saw Mezentius him 
With his red plume and with the martial cloak 
That his betrothed had wrought, while yet afar 970 
He mingled in the middle of the line, 
'Twas like some unfed lion, hunger-mad, 
That hovers near a well-fenced fold, until 
If he hap see a timid goat or stag 
With towering horns, he turns to ecstasy, 975 

His jaws wide open and his mane on end, 
And leaping on the victim tears its flesh, 
Its warm blood trickling down his ravenous maw. 
So dashes on the serried foe the fierce 
Mezentius : Akron falls, poor wretch, and ploughs, 9§c 
A dying man, the black earth with his heels, — 



THE ^NEID. 



341 



Wet with his blood his yet unbroken lance. 

He will not stoop to kill Orodes while 
He flies, or thrust a spearhead through his back, 
But waits to meet him face to face, and fight ^5 

As man to man, relying not on stealth 
But on his stouter arm. His foot against 
His prostrate foe, he wrenches back his spear 
And roars : " Here, warriors, great Orodes lies ; 
No battle pigmy he ! " His soldiers back 990 

In chorus swell the triumph of his shout. 
But he, the dying hero, answers thus : 
" Victor, whoe'er thou art, not long shalt thou 
Boast o'er me unavenged ! Thee too, a like 
Fate waits : and thou shalt soon the same dust bite." 995 
Then anger flushed the sneer Mezentius gave ; 
" Now die ! " he cried, "and as for me, my fate 
Is with the Father of the gods and King 
Of men." So spake, and from Orodes' trunk 
Drew out the spear. The rest that never ends, IOO ° 
The iron clamp of slumber locked his eyes, 
Their light extinguished in eternal night. 

Alcathous is killed by Caedicus; 
Hydaspes by Sacrator ; Rapo lays 
Parthenius and the giant Orses low ; IO °5 

Messapus Clonius kills, and after him 
The Lycaonian Ericetes, — one, 
Met foot to foot ; the other, thrown by his 
Unbridled horse, and lying on the ground. 
True to ancestral courage, Valerus XOI ° 

Slays Lycian Agis stalking to the front. 
Salius Athronius slays ; Nealces, famed 



342 THE ^NEID. 



For spear and viewless shaft, strikes Salius down. 

So far stern Mars to either side deals death 
And sorrow equally. Alike they charge ; IOI 5 

Alike they fall — conquered and conquerors 
In turn ; yet neither thinks of flight. Meantime 
Beneath Jove's roof, the gods in pity look 
At this waste fury of them both — at such 
Extravagance of mortal energies. 102 ° 

Here Venus and Saturnian Juno gaze 
E'en side by side : while mid the myriad hosts, 
Ghastly Tisiphone raves savagely. 

Shaking his mighty spear, Mezentius then 
In fury dashes to the front. As great I02 5 

Orion stalks above the Ocean's depths 
And ploughs his way, his shoulders towering o'er 
The waves, or as some ancient mountain ash 
Doth spurn the earth and hide its head among 
The clouds, so in his ponderous armor comes io 3° 
Mezentius on. No sooner seen afar, 
Than straight ^Eneas makes to meet him. He 
Stands fearless, waiting for his noble foe, 
In his own might reposeful. With a glance 
The intervening space he measures till IQ 35 

His shaft may master it. " Now, my right hand," 
He cries, "that art my god, and thou the spear 
I poise to hurl, be true ! Lausus, I swear, 
Thou shalt thyself ^Eneas' trophies have, 
And clothe thee in the spoils I strip from off IO *° 

The robber's corse." And as he speaks, he hurls, 
Still far away, his shrilling spear. It flies, 
But glances from the shield, and, wide its mark, 



THE ^NEID. 



343 



Pierces the brave Antores' side and guts : — 

Antores, comrade once of Hercules, I04 s 

Who, sent from Greece, Evander joined, and made 

His home in an Italian town. Poor wretch, 

He falls beneath a wound not meant for him, 

Looks up to heaven, and dies remembering 

Sweet Argos. Then ALneas, who reveres io 5° 

The gods, his spear doth hurl : it penetrates 

The hollow shield, straight through the triple folds 

Of brass, the woven back, the plaited mass 

Of three bulls' hides, and settles in the groin : 

But there its force is spent. Quick as a thought, io 5s 

Exulting as he sees the Tuscan's blood, 

JEneas snatches from his thigh his sword, 

And hotly charges on his panting foe. 

But Lausus loved his father — dear at least 
To him — and at the sight groaned heavily, Io6 ° 

Tears running down his face. Nor here — I would 
The world might e'er in such heroic worth. 
Keep fresh its faith — will I in silence pass 
Thy hard death by, or thy most noble deeds, 
Or thee, thou e'er-to-be-remembered youth ! Io6 5 

For, while the father, crippled, staggering 
And hampered with his wound, was falling back, 
Trying to wrench his adversary's spear * 
From out his shield, quick forward sprang the boy 
And threw himself between the antagonists. io 7° 

He caught ^Eneas' sword just as he raised 
His right hand up to strike the blow, and stayed 
And bore the onset of ^Eneas' self. 
His men encourage him with hearty shouts 



344 THE ^NEID. 



While, covered by the buckler of the son, io 75 

The sire escapes : they mass their fire against 

His foe, whom at safe distance they assail 

With missiles, till ^Eneas veils himself, 

Boiling with rage, behind his shield. 'Tis like 

The tempest bursting in a blast of hail, lo8 ° 

When ploughman, farmer, traveller, from the fields 

All fly, and 'neath the nearest shelter hide — 

Be it a river bank or jutting cliff — 

While falls the rain, that when the sun comes back 

They may the labors of the day renew. Io8 5 

So deluged on all sides by bolt and spear, 

JEneas bears alone the thundering storm 

Of battle, chiding Lausus, threatening him 

By turns : " Why rush upon thy death ? Thou dar'st 

Beyond thy strength. Thy filial piety I0 9° 

Hath made thee reckless." But the other still 

Foolhardily comes on, until at last 

The Trojan chief's grim vengeance higher mounts, 

And Fate spins the last thread of Lausus' life. 

For now JEneas with a heavy thrust io 95 

Plunges his sword into the youth, and hides 

It to the hilt. Right through the brave boy's shield 

It goes, his polished armor, and the shirt 

His mother had embroidered with fine gold, — 

His breast all blood. Into the shades his soul, IIO ° 

Leaving his corse, flits wailing through the air. 

But when Anchises' son that dying look 
Beheld — that face so wonderfully pale, — 
He groaned with pity and held forth his hand, 
His own heart kindling at so fair a type iio s 



THE ^NEID. 3 4S 



Of filial love. " Poor boy, for such desert," 

He cried, " what honor worth thy excellence 

Can now ^Eneas — pious son himself — 

On 'thee bestow ! Keep thou the arms that were 

Thy pride. I give thee, if it be thy wish, Iiro 

Back to the shades and ashes of thy sires ; 

And luckless as thou art, it shall at least 

Lighten the sadness of thy death that thou 

Did'st fall by great ^Eneas' hand." He chides 

The hesitating comrades of the youth, ITI 5 

And with his own hands lifts him from the ground, 

His Tuscan-plaited hair matted w r ith blood. 

Meantime his father at the Tiber's brink 
Stanched with its flow his wounds, and rested him, 
Reclining 'gainst a tree. Not far away, II2 ° 

Upon a branch his brazen helmet hangs, 
His ponderous armor lying on the grass. 
His chosen warriors round him stand. Himself 
In pain and out of breath, he hangs his head, 
His bushy beard down-flowing o'er his breast. II2 s 
Of Lausus o'er and o'er he asks, and sends 
Man after man to call him from the fight 
And bear the mandate of his anxious sire, 
Even while Lausus' comrades, all in tears — 
That mighty frame felled by a mighty wound — iT 3° 
Him there are bringing dead upon his shield. 

The father's heart, foreboding ill, had heard 
The wail while yet afar. His hoary locks 
He sullies with the filthy dust : to heaven 
He stretches both his hands, and o'er the corse I13 $ 
He hangs. " My son," he cries, " hath love of life, 



34^ 



THE yENEID. 



" Possessed me so that I could suffer thee, 

Flesh of my flesh, to bear for me the brunt 

Of foeman's hand ? Am I, thy father, saved 

By wounds like these — alive because thou died'st ? "*> 

Oh ! in my misery now is exile hard 

At last ! Deep now the iron in my soul ! 

'Tis I, my son, have stained thy name with crime, 

In hatred hunted from my father's throne 

And sceptre. Whatsoe'er the penalty II ^ 

I owed my country or my subjects' hate, 

Would I had given them up my guilty life, 

To take it by a thousand deaths ! And I 

Still live ! I quit not yet the face of men, 

The light of heaven ! But quit them now I will." li s° 

E'en as he speaks, upon his bleeding thigh 

He lifts him, though the pain of his deep wound 

Retards his step, and, still undaunted, bids 

Bring him his steed. His steed his comfort was, 

His pride. On this from all his wars had he JI 55 

Rid victor off. To it, as if it grieved 

With him, he speaks, and these the words he breathes : 

"Long time — if any thing be long to them 

Who die — have we together, Rhcebus, lived ! 

And now to-day shalt thou in triumph bear Il6 ° 

The bloody trophy of ^Eneas' head, — 

With me the avenger of my Lausus' death ! — 

Or, if no power can that achieve, thou shalt 

Together with me fall ; for, bravest steed 

That ever was, I wot thou'd'st ne'er endure Il6 5 

Another's rein or bear a Trojan lord." 

He spake and, mounting, sat his wonted seat : 



THE ^ENEID. 



347 



Both hands he filled with javelins keen : his helm 

Of brass gleamed on his head, while waved his crest 

Of rough horse-hair. And thus he madly rode Ir 7° 

Into the centre of the fight. A sense 

Of bitter shame seethes deep within his heart, 

Of frenzy mixed with sorrow, love inflamed 

To fury, courage certain of itself ! 

Thrice in stentorian tones he challenges XI ~5 

^Eneas. Him ^Eneas knows at once : 

In ecstasy he prays : " So be it then ! 

The Father of the gods, — great Phcebus wills 

That thou at last dar'st meet me hand to hand ! " 

No more he speaks, but forward springs to face Il8 ° 

With deadly spear his foe, who answers back : 

" Thou can'st not fright me, savagest of men, 

Since thou hast slain my son. There lay alone 

The way where thou had'st power to strike at me. 

I fear not death. I reverence no god. Il8 5 

Speak not, for I have come to die : but first 

To thee this gift I bear." And at the word, 

He hurls a spear at his antagonist ; 

Another, and another yet he sends, 

Swift circling round his foeman well away. IJ 9° 

The golden shield wards all his weapons off. 

Thrice round ^Eneas thus Mezentius rides 

From right to left, his weapons whirling. Thrice 

The Trojan hero bears around with him 

A very forest in his shining shield, IJ 95 

Till, weary at the waste of such good time, 

So many missiles to pluck out, he frets 

To come to closer quarters, though it be 



343 



THE jENEID. 



With odds against him. Festered to the quick, 

He breaks at last his guard, and drives his spear I2 ° c 

'Twixt the deep temples of that martial steed. 

It rears erect, beats with its hoofs the air, 

Rolls on its tumbling rider, pinning him, 

And on his broken shoulder lies head-down. 

Trojans and Latins fill the air with yells. I2 °s 

^Eneas forward flies, snatches his sword 

From out its sheath, and standing o'er him shouts : 

" Where now is bold Mezentius, and his fierce 

Resistless might ? " Soon as his breath comes back, 

His consciousness restored, the Tuscan speaks: I2I ° 

" Thou bitter foe, why taunt, why threat the dead ! 

My slaughter is no crime, nor to the fight 

Came I expecting less : in my behalf 

My Lausus fixed with you no better terms. 

I ask thee only this, if any grace I2i s 

Thou giv'st a conquered foe — grant thou my corse 

Be buried in the earth. I know how black 

The bitter hatred of my people is : 

Spare me, I beg, their fury but so much, 

And lay me in the grave beside my son." ,22 ° 

This said, without a tremor he the sword 

Lets to his throat and pours his life abroad, 

His blood outgushing with it o'er his arms. 



i 



ELEVENTH BOOK. 

T TPSPRINGING now, Aurora ocean leaves. 
^-^ , Distraught with care lest there.be lack of time 
For burying his dead, heart-sick at thought 
Of Pallas' death, ^Eneas none the less 
At earliest dawn pays to the gods his vows 5 

For victory. Upon a knoll he sets 
A sturdy oak, lops all its branches off, 
And nails to it the glittering armor stripped 
From duke Mezentius — spoils to thee, great Mars ! 
Mounts there the warrior's plumes still dewed with 
blood, IO 

His broken spears, his breast-plate twelve times struck 
And pierced ; binds on the left his brazen shield \ 
And hangs his ivory-handled sword around 
The neck. About him massed, his whole staff throng,. 
Encircling him. They listening joyfully, *5 

Thus he inspires them as he speaks : " My chiefs, 
The pinch is past. Away all fear ! What else 
Is left ? Here are the spoils of this proud king, — 
Our victory's first fruits. By my hand struck, 
Here lies Mezentius. Now our way is clear 2 ° 

Unto the Latin city and its king. 
Array your arms, and in your hearts and hopes 
Anticipate the fight. Let no delay 
Impede the lagging step, or thought of fear 
Clog sloth the more, when once the gods make sign 2 s 



35 o THE iENEID. 



To pluck our standards up and from our camp 
Lead on our troops. Meantime let us to earth 
Commit the unburied bodies of our friends ; 
Else is no passport theirs 'neath Acheron. 
Haste ye," he cried ; " With the last obsequies 30 
Honor the noble souls who have preserved 
Their country with their blood. Let Pallas first, 
Whom full of excellence a sorry day 
Took off and whelmed in bitterness of death, 
Back to Evander's mourning realm be sent." 3 * 

So speaks and weeps ; then to the threshold turns, 
Where old Accetes guards dead Pallas' corse, 
Stretched on its bier. He in Arcadia 
Evander's armor-bearer was lang syne. 
Far sadder now the auspices 'neath which, *° 

The appointed friend of his loved foster-child, 
He here had come. All round him throng a host 
Of slaves, a crowd of Trojans and, their sad 
Hair streaming as their wont is, the Ilian dames. 
So when ^Eneas through the lofty doors 45 

Comes in, they beat their breasts, and to the stars 
Lift up a loud lament, till with their wail 
The palace echoes. He no sooner sees 
The uplifted head and face of Pallas white 
As snow, and on his fair young breast laid bare 50 
The gash of the Italian's spear, than thus, 
Tears streaming fast, he cries : "Unhappy boy, 
Could fortune come so kind, yet grudge me thee ? 
Shalt thou ne'er see my kingdom, nor be borne 
Hence to thy father's roof a victor back ! 55 

Not this the pledge that I, departing, gave 



THE ^NEID. 3S ! 



Thy sire Evander, when from his embrace 
He sent me forth to win a mighty realm, 
And, fearing for my safety, cautioned me 
The men were fierce I went to meet, the fight 6o 

Was with a stubborn race. It may be now, 
Deluded overmuch with idle hopes, 
He offers vows, and altars heaps with gifts, 
And we, with honors that can naught avail, 
Watch sadly the dead body of his boy, 6 5 

Who to the gods of .life now nothing owes, 
Whilst thou, unhappy sire, hast naught in store 
But to behold thy boy's disfigured corse ! 
And this is my return to him, this his 
Anticipated triumph, this my word 70 

I vaunted so ! But thou, Evander, shalt 
Not look upon a son mangled with wounds 
That cast disgrace ; nor shall thy father's pride * 
Wish he, a coward and alive, were dead. 
Ah me, how stout a bulwark, Italy, 75 

Hast thou, and thou, lulus, lost in him ! " 
Lamenting thus, he bids them tenderly 
Lift up the dead. He sends, picked from his host, 
A thousand men the last sad rites to pay, 
And mingle with the father's tears their own, — 8° 
Slight solace though it be for grief so great, 
Yet due that father's grief. They quickly weave 
A frame and easy bier with arbute boughs 
And withes of oak, and shade the upraised couch 
Beneath a canopy of leaves. Uplift 8 5 

Upon this rustic leafy bed, they lay 
The youth, fair as a flower that maiden's hand 



3S 2 THE ^NEID. 



Breaks from its stem, — some tender violet, 

Or drooping hyacinth, not yet its bloom 

Or perfect outline gone, though now no more 90 

The mother earth doth feed or give it life. 

Then forth two robes, with gilt and purple stiff, 
^Eneas brings. But late, with her own hands, 
Sidonian Dido, happy in the task, 
Had woven them, and wrought with golden threads 95 
The web. One sadly o'er the youth he throws, 
His parting gift, and veils beneath its folds 
The locks so soon to light the funeral pile. 
Many a prize from out Laurentum's fight 
He heaps, and bids the long line of the spoils IO ° 
Move on. Horses and spears he adds, of which 
He had despoiled the foe. He too had bound 
Behind their backs the prisoners' hands, whom he 
Did send as sacrifices to the death, 
Soon with their blood outspilt to sprinkle all io 5 

The funeral flames. At his command tree-trunks, 
In foemen's armor clad, with foemen's names 
Attached, are carried by the chiefs. Infirm 
With age, poor old Accetes is led forth. 
Now beating with his fists upon his breasts, IIQ 

And now his face disfiguring with his nails, 
He falls at full length stretched upon the ground. 
Next Pallas' car, stained with Rutulian blood, 
They bring, — his war-horse, JEthon, following it, 
Stripped of his trappings, and in tears that rain JI 5 
In great drops down his cheeks. And others bring 
His helm and sword : — victorious Turnus hath 
The rest. The funeral escort follow next, 



THE .ENEID. 



353 



The Trojan and the Tuscan chiefs, and then, 

Their arms reversed, the Arcadian soldiery. I2 ° 

Far on its way has moved the whole long line 

Of his companions; but .ZEneas stays, 

And with a heavy sob cries after them : 

"War's horrois, e'er the same, summon me hence 

To other tears. Forevermore farewell, I2 5 

My noblest Pallas, evermore farewell ! " 

He says no more, but to the lofty walls 

Turns back, and wends his pathway to the camp. 

Meantime, their brows enwreathed with olive leaves, 
Came from the Latin city deputies, T 3° 

. Begging him restoration of the slain 
Whose bodies strewed the battle field, and leave 
To bury them. No quarrel sure, said they, 
Had he with the defeated or the dead, 
But would forbear a race whose guest he once *35 

Had been, and to the daughter of whose king 
He was betrothed. Not such the prayer to be 
Despised, and good JEneas grants the boon 
As soon as asked, and with it adds : " Ye men 
Of Latium, what unworthy fortune is't "4° 

That in so grim a war hath you involved, 
Who should not turn from us, your friends, away ?. 
Truce for the dead and whom the lot of war 
Hath taken off, ye ask me. Ah, but I 
Would to the living grant it gladlier. J 45 

I had not hither come, had not the fates 
This spot, this settlement assigned. Nor wage 
I with your people war. It is your king 
Hath broken faith with me, and hath preferred 
23 



354 



THE yENEID. 



His fortune to entrust to Turnus' arms. x 5° 

Better for him, had Turnus met his death ! 
Whom, were he resolute to end the war, 
And drive the Trojans off, it did behoove 
To encounter me with weapons such as these ; 
For then had he survived, whose life the gods T 55 

And his own good right hand had kept. Go now, 
And burn the bodies of your wretched dead." 
So spake ^Eneas. They, bewildered, mute, 
And staring in each other's faces, stand, 
Till Drances, oldest of the group and e'er l6 ° 

With hate and charges 'gainst young Turnus rank, 
Beginning thus replies : " Mighty in fame, 
But mightier, O man of Troy, in arms, 
With what laudations shall I lift thy name 
To heaven ? Shall I admire thy justice more, l6 5 
Or thy exploits in war ? Indeed will we 
With gratitude bear back the words thou speak'st 
Unto our native town, and make a league, 
If fortune will but show the way, 'twixt thee 
And king Latinus. Then let Turnus find J 7° 

His own alliances. Our joy shall be 
To raise the destined columns of thy realm 
And put our shoulders to the Trojan walls." 
He speaks, and with one voice the rest confirm 
.His words. A twelve days truce they make ; and all r "5 
That intervening time of peace, amid 
The woods, and o'er the hills, securely stroll 
Trojans and Latins side by side. The axe 
Is heard that fells the ash. Pines they upturn 
That reach the stars : and ceaselessly they rift lSo 



THE iENEID. 355 



Logs of the fragrant cedar, and with ash 
Load down their wagons till they groan again. 

Already to Evander and his home 
And realm hath rumor flown — the harbinger 
Of misery so keen — and filled the ears l8 s 

In which it bui a day ago announced 
That Pallas victor was in Latium. 
The Arcadians sally to their gates, and raise 
Funereal torches in their ancient wont : 
The way is lit with one long line of light r9 ° 

That far and wide illuminates the fields. 
The Trojan phalanx meeting them, in one 
The sorrowing columns flow. As they approach 
The walls, the women, when they see them, fill 
The city with their cries of grief. No power *95 

Can keep Evander back. Into their midst 
He comes. The bier let down, on Pallas'' corse 
He falls and, weeping, moaning, clings to it, 
While grief scarce lets his voice have way at last : 

" Not this the pledge, thou, Pallas, gav'st thy sire, 2 °° 
That thou would 'st bear thee cautiously amid 
The perils of the fight. And yet I knew 
How sharp a young man's thirst for battle fame, — 
How keen the thrill of his first pass at arms ! 
Oh, sad first fruit of budding youth ! Oh, hard 2 °5 
Beginnings of intestine war ! No god 
To hear my vows or listen to my prayers ! 
Thou too, my sainted wife, happy art thou, 
Dead and ne'er spared for such a grief as this, 
While I have over-lived my time for naught 2T0 

But to be left a sire and have no son ! 



35^ 



THE iENEID. 



Would the Rutulian steel had stricken me, 
Troy's follower and ally, instead of him ! — 
That I my life had given ! Would that this pomp 
Were bringing me, not Pallas, home ! Yet ne'er 2I 5 
Will I repent me, Trojans, of our league, 
Or that we clasped in hospitality 
Your hands in ours. It was the destined lot 
Of my old age. Though in the bud cut off, 
I love to think it was not till my boy 22 ° 

Led on the Trojan charge 'gainst Latium 
O'er thousands of the Volscian dead. Nor could 
I, Pallas, honor thee with apter rites 
Than good ^Eneas and these Trojan lords, 
Our Tuscan chiefs and all the Tuscan host 22 5 

Have paid. The glorious trophies thy right hand 
Stripped from the foes it slew, they hither bring ; 
And, Turnus, had his age been equal thine, 
And his the same maturity of years, 
'Tis thy huge corse that in its armor now 2 3° 

Would lie ! But why do I, poor wretch, still keep 
The Trojans from the fight? Go ye and tell 
Your king — forget it not — I say to him : 
6 If still I live who, Pallas dead, yet loathe 
' To live, 'tis for the debt of Turnus' life, 2 3* 

' Which, as thou knowest well, thy good right hand 
' Owes as the due of father and of son. 
' This duty done, thou and thy fortune lack 
' Naught else. Living, no recompense or joy 
' I ask, — only that, passing to the shades, **° 

' I tell my son that Turnus bites the dust.' " 
Broad o'er this world of woe the morning sun 



THE ^NEID. 



357 



Had flung its blessed light, renewing toil 

And care. Already on the winding strand 

Father ^Eneas — Tarchon too — had raised 2 ^5 

Their pyres. After the manner of his kin, 

Each hither brought the bodies of his dead. 

The lurid flames were lighted underneath, 

And heaven's high arch enveloped black with smoke. 

Thrice round the blazing stacks they ran, begirt 2 5° 

With glittering arms : thrice, mounted on their steeds, 

They rode around the sad funereal fires 

And howled aloud. The earth was drenched, their arms 

Were drenched with tears, and high as heaven rose up 

The mourners' cries, the trumpets' clangor. Then, 2 55 

While some the flames were feeding with the spoils 

Stripped from the Latin slain — embellished swords, 

Helmets and bridles and swift-whirling wheels, — 

Others threw in their more familiar gifts, 

Shields of their own and weapons that missed aim. 26 ° 

There too, to Death they slaughtered many an ox. 

Over the blaze the throats of bristling hogs 

And sheep, stolen from all the fields, they cut. 

Far down the shore they watched their comrades burn, 

Guarding the embers of the pyres, nor could 26 5 

They tear themselves away, till dewy Night 

Rolled out the starry jewels of the sky. 

Nor less elsewhere the wretched Latins raise 
Pyres without number. Many of the dead 
They bury in the earth ; some they bear off 2 ?° 

To neighboring fields, or to the town send back ; 
The rest, — an undistinguishable, great, 
Uncounted and unhonored heap of slain, — 



358 



THE ^NEID. 



They burn. On every hand, flames everywhere, 
Vie the illuminations of the wide 2 75 

Extending plains. But when the third dawn parts 
The chilly shades from heaven, though still they mourn, 
The ash-heaps and the powder of the bones 
They sweep into the hearths, and o'er them throw 
The warm embankment of the heated earth. 2So 

But all this while 'tis in their very homes — 
In powerful Latinus' city walls — 
That chiefest is the din, and the lament 
Longest and loudest. Mothers there, and young 
Brides broken-hearted, tender grieving souls . 28 s 

Of sisters, boys just orphaned of their sires, 
All execrate the horrors of the war 
And Turnus' spousal to Lavinia. 
Let him, let him, they cry, to his own sword 
And to the ordeal of battle make appeal, 2 9° 

If he the sovereignty of Italy 
And its high honors for himself demand. 
Stern Drances feeds the flame, and heralds how 
^Eneas hath to single combat bade 
And challenged Turnus. Yet, so differ they, 2 95 

The sentiment for Turnus still is strong. 
The shadow of the queen's authority 
Is great : the warrior's glorious repute, 
His hard-earned trophies stand him in good stead. 

Amid this stir, the uproar at its height, 300 

Lo ! added to the rest, from Diomed's 
Great town, the disappointed deputies 
Bring word that all their labor and their pains 
Have naught achieved ; their gifts, their gold, their 
prayers 



THE ^NEID. 



359 



From him no answer got, save that for arms 305 

Other than his the Latins needs must look, 

Or with the Trojan king must make their peace. 

At this, is king Latinus overwhelmed 
With utter misery. The wrath of Heaven, 
The new graves e'er before his eyes, warn him 310 
How manifestly providence divine 
Doth lead ^Eneas on. And seeing this, 
Within his stately courts he calls the first 
Lords of his realm, summoned at his command 
To solemn council. They together come 315 

And, rushing in, fill up the royal halls. 
First in authority and first in years, 
Latinus in the centre sits, a cloud 
Upon his brow, and bids the deputies, 
Returned from the ^Etolian town, announce 320 

The answers they have brought, requiring them 
Report these word for word from first to last. 

Then silent every tongue, thus Venulus, 
Obeying him, opens his mouth and speaks : 
" We, fellow citizens, saw Diomed 325 

And his Greek battlements : all obstacles 
O'ercame, pursued our journey to the end, 
And touched the hand that crushed the Trojan realm. 
There, near Garganus in Apulia, 
The conqueror was building up the town 330 

Named, for his native land, Argyripa. 
Soon as we entered in and audience 
Was granted, we before him spread our gifts, 
Made known our nationality and names, 
And told him who were waging war on us, 335 



3 6 ° 



THE ^ENEID. 



And what the cause that took us to his gates. 
He heard us and responded kindly thus : 

" ' Oh happy race ! Realm of the golden age 
And old Ausonia yours, what fortune is't 
Disturbs your peace and drives you to the fret ^° 
Of war's uncertainty? Whoe'er we are, 
Who with the sword insulted Ilium — 
Let go the chiefs who 'neath its stately walls 
In battle fell, or whom the Simois drowned — 
Grim vengeance hath pursued us round the world : 345 
There is no penalty for crime, we have 
Not paid. E'en Priam's self would pity us. 
Minerva's stormy star, Eubara's cliffs, 
Caphereus' vengeful summit, know u§ all. 
From that campaign, hunted from shore to shore, 350 
The son of Atreus, Menelaus, strayed 
An exile, e'en to Proteus' columns driven. 
Ulysses' eyes on Etna's Cyclops gazed. 
Need I refer to Pyrrhus' realm ; or tell 
How his own hearth drove forth Idomeneus ? 355 

Dwell not the Locri on the Afric shore ? 
Nay, chief of all that mighty Grecian host, 
Crossing his threshold Agamemnon fell 
Beneath the hand of his dishonored spouse, 
Whose paramour entrapped the conqueror 360 

Of Asia. For myself, the gods forbade 
I should to native land return, or see 
My sweet wife more, or lovely Calydon. 
And still portents pursue, too horrible 
For sight : my lost companions, turned to birds, 365 
Cleave on their wings the air ; along the streams 



THE ^NEID. 



361 



They wander, and — alas, that friends of mine 
Should suffer so ! — their melancholy cries 
Echo from cliff to cliff. Yetjvell I knew 
All this awaited me e'er since the day 370 

When, mad, I at celestial shapes did thrust 
My sword, and with a cut dared desecrate 
The hand of Venus. Urge not me, indeed, 
Not me to such a war as yours. I have 
No quarrel with the Trojans since the sack 375 

Of Troy, (it brings no pleasure to recall 
The sorrows of the past. ) Bear back the gifts 
That ye have brought me from your native shores, 
And give them to ^Eneas. I have faced 
His angry spear and fought him hand to hand. 380 
Believe ye one who saw how mightily 
He rises on his shield, how like the blast 
He hurls a spear. Two such had Ida borne, 
Troy would have marched on Greece and, fate reversed, 
'Tis Argos that would be the mourner now. 3S5 

Long as the sturdy walls of Troy withstood 
The attack, 'twas Hector's and ^Eneas' blows 
Stayed the Greeks' victory, and for ten long years 
. Delayed it : both were mighty spirits, both 
Great warriors, unsurpassed in battle fame - — 3^0 

But finer was ^Eneas' moral sense. 
Make peace with him whate'er his terms \ but have 
A care, if to the tug of war it comes ! ' 

"This was king's reply, most gracious king : 
Thou hearest what he thinks of this great war/' 395 

They scarce had finished, ere from trembling lip 
To lip through that Ausonian throng there ran 



362 



THE ^ENEID. 



The muttering of many voices like 
The roar that rises when a rapid stream 
Is dammed with rocks and fettered in its flow, 4°° 
Its angry ripples beating at the banks. 
Quiet restored, their chatter stilled, the king 
Invoked the gods, and from his throne spake thus : 
" I would — and better had it been indeed, 

Latins — that we long ago had made 405 
The state secure, rather than in an hour 

Like this be parleying, while the enemy 

Is closing round our walls. We, citizens, 

An ill-starred fight are waging with a race 

Whose lineage is from the gods, — with men * 10 

Invincible, whom war exhausts not, nor 

Defeat can sicken of the sword. If ye 

Had hope to link your arms with Diomed's, 

Abandon it. Save each man for himself, 

There is no hope — how poor that hope, ye know. **s 

As for aught else, — before your very eyes, 

In your own hands, all is paralysis. 

1 blame no man. What valor's best can do 
Hath all been done, and we have fought with not 

A nerve in all the realm unstrained. But now * 2 ° 

Let me, though still in doubt, speak out my mind. 

Give ear, and I will put it in few words : 

There is an ancient tract of land, 'twixt which 

And me the Tiber flows : westward it runs 

Beyond the boundaries of Sicania : 425 

The Aurunci till it, and the Rutuli : 

The}' break its rugged hillsides with the plough, 

And where too rousfh for that, there feed their flocks. 



THE ^NEID. 



363 



Let all this region, with its forest-stretch 

Of mountain-pine, be to the Trojans given 430 

As pledge of peace : let us propose fair terms 

Of league, and to our realm make them allies : 

There let them settle, if they so desire, 

And there the walls of their own cities build. 

But if it be their pleasure to secure 435 

Some other vicinage, some other land, 

We will construct them twenty boats of good 

Italian wood, or more if they can more 

Employ. Material lies abundant here 

Upon our shores. They may themselves prescribe 440 

The number and the model of the craft ; 

And we the labor, brass, and naval stores 

Will furnish. More than that, shall go, to bear 

This our proposal and to fix the league, 

A hundred deputies of the best blood 445 

In Latium, holding in their hands outstretched 

The olive branch of peace, and bearing gifts — 

Talents of gold and ivory, the curule chair 

And toga, the insignia of our realm. 

Think well meanwhile, and help me bear my load." 450 

Then Drances spake : relentless still, he masked 
His envy, though he chafed, stung, to the quick 
At Turnus' fame. His wealth was large, his tongue 
Of rare persuasiveness, but for the sword 
Ne'er itched his fingers ; his authority 455 

Weighed at the council board, and of intrigue 



He was a master. On his mother's side 
Proud lineage of noble blood he had : 
But who his father was, nobody knew. 



364 THE ^NEID. 



He rose, and thus did fan and feed the flame. 460 

" O good king, thou hast urged a matter here, 
So patent to us all it needed not 
That thou should'st give it voice. No man is there 
But in his heart well knows what 'tis the state 
Demands, yet fears to speak. Let therefore him 465 
Give liberty of speech and lay aside 
His arrogance, whose vicious leadership 
And blundering methods — nay, but I will speak, 
Though he do threat me with the sword and death — 
Have sacrificed, as our own eyes have seen, 470 

So many of our shining lights in war, 
And humbled all our city in the dust ; 
While he, coquetting with the Trojan camp, 
Looking to flight for safety, terrifies 
Naught but the breezes with his spear. One thing 475 
Thou should'st add more, among the many gifts 
Thou bid'st be set apart and forwarded 
The Trojan chief — one thing, O best of kings! 
Let no man's menace keep thee longer, sire, 
From giving now thy daughter to a son 480 

So eminent, — a marriage that will bring 
Such honor ; or from making that the bond 
Of an eternal peace. Yet if it be 
That Turnus hath such terror for your soul 
And o'er your reason, let us to his grace 485 

Appeal, and ask of him the boon, that he 
Give way, and to his country and his king 
Restore their own. Oh, head and spring of all 
The woes of Latium ! why so many times 
Dost thou expose thy wretched countrymen 490 



THE ^ENEID. 



36S 



To sure disaster ? Not in war is our 

Reliance. Peace it is that, to a man, 

We, Turnus, at thy hands demand, and ask 

Meantime the one sure guaranty of peace. 

And I, who thou pretendest am thy foe — 495 

Nor care I if I be — am first to come 

Lo ! as thy suppliant. Yea, have mercy thou 

Upon thy countrymen ! swallow thy pride, 

And, beaten, from the field depart ! Enough 

Of rout and slaughter have we seen ; enough 500 

Of desolation brought on our fair land ! 

Or, if ambition pricks, — if in thy breast 

Thou hast the daring, — if thou hast so much 

At heart a royal dowry, then pluck up 

And boldly meet thy rival face to face ! 505 

For sure it cannot be that we, whose lives 

Are cheap, a mass unworthy burial 

Or tears, should strew the fields, so Turnus here 

May wive him with the daughter of a king. 

Ay now, if aught of manliness thou hast, 510 

Aught of the Italian soldier's martial fire, 

Do thou confront the man who dares thee fight ! " 

Flames Turnus raging hot at such a charge. 
He groans, and the words burst from his very heart : 
" Ay, Drances, thou hast never lack of words, 515 

When war demands not words but blows. But call 
The lawyers in, and thou art first to come! 
This is no place to inundate with talk, 
That always flows so easily from thee 
When out of danger's way, or when the walls 520 

Fend off the foe, nor ditches swim with blood. 



3 66 



THE ^NEID. 



So thunder forth thy eloquence, as thou 
Art wont ! Thou, Drances, chargest me with fear ! 
Well said, since thy right hand hath piled so high 
The heaps of Trojan slain, and everywhere 525 

- With trophies glorified the land ! Thou can'st 
Now prove what valor, hot as thine, can do. 
We have not far indeed to seek the foe. 
On every side they swarm about our walls. 
Shall we upon them charge ? What, hesitate ? 530 
That martial ardor, shall it always fill 
Only that windy tongue of thine, — those legs 
So swift to run ? I beaten from the field f 
Foulest of mouths, is there an honest man 
Will say that I was beaten from the field, 535 

Who saw the Tiber swell with Trojan blood, 
Evander's household and his son laid low, 
And the Arcadians of their armor stripped ? 
Not such the finding of great "Pandarus 
Or Bitias, or the thousands whom to hell 540 

I sent that day when I, shut in their walls 
And hedged within the ramparts of the foe, 
Was victor still ! And not in war is our 
Reliance ! Fool, sing that to Trojan ears, 
And for thine own advantage. Ay, go on ! 545 

Set all agape with mortal terror ! laud 
To heaven the prowess of this twice-flogged tribe, 
And cry the forces of Latinus down ! 
Why, e'en the Grecian chiefs are shuddering still 
Before the Trojan steel! still Diomed, 550 

And still Achilles of Larissa ! Back 
From the Adriatic sea the Aufidus 



THE ^NEID. 367 



Recoils ! Why, but this lying scoundrel feigns 
That he is put in fear by threats of mine, 
And heightens accusation with alarm ! 555 

Rack thee no more in terror lest thou lose 
E'en such a life as thine by my right hand. 
With thee let it abide, and in that breast, 
There let it stay ! — And now to thee, good sire, 
And thy suggestions I return. If thou 560 

Hast in our arms no further hope, if we 
Are so reduced and utterly destroyed 
At one reverse, and fortune has for us 
No turn in store, then let us sue for peace, 
And our defenceless hands hold up ! And yet, 565 
Ye gods ! were aught of old-time valor here, 
I'd think him happy in his lot, and great 
Of soul beyond all other men on earth, 
Who laid him down to die, and bit the dust, 
Rather than live to witness such a sight ! 570 

But if we have resources still of men 
And money of our own, besides the aid 
Of the Italian towns and peoples ; if 
At cost of seas of blood the Trojans won 
Their triumph ; if they too have had their dead 575 
To bury, and the storm on all alike 
Hath fallen, why thus shamelessly should we 
Falter at the first step ? why tremor thrill 
Our nerves ere yet the trumpet sound to arms ? 
/ Time and the ever-changing round of years $ So 

1 Have many an ill repaired • and fortune's wheel 
One day makes poor whom it enriches next. 
Arpi and Diomed will aid us not ! 



3 68 



THE .ENEID. 



Ay, but Massapus will ! Tolumnius too, 

That augur of success ! — and all the chiefs 585 

Sent by so many clans ! Not small shall be 

The glory of a follower of these, 

The chosen warriors they of Latium 

And the Laurentian land. Camilla there, 

The generous Volscian blood within her veins, 590 

Marshals her regiment of horse, their ranks 

Ablaze with shining brass. Yet if it be 

The Trojans challenge me to single fight, 

If that is best, and I so much obstruct 

The common good, not yet hath victory 595 

Fled my rejected hand so far that I 

For such a stake would turn from any test ! 

With all my heart will I ^Eneas meet, 

Though he be great Achilles' conqueror 

And wear like him armor that Vulcan's hands 6o ° 

Have wrought. To you, my countrymen ; to thee, 

Latinus, father of my bride, do I — 

I, Turnus, who in valor yield the palm 

To none of eld — devote this life of mine. 

^Eneas summons me to single fight ! 6 °5 

Ay, summon me I pray he may. If death 

Their wrath demand, be it not Drances' death 

That shall appease the gods ! Let him not win 

The glory, be it fame or victory ! " 

While on their dubious case they thus debate, 6l ° 
^Eneas has his camp and battle line 
Moved up. Comes rushing through the royal courts, 
A tumult at his heels, a messenger 
Who with o'erwhelming terror fills the town, 



THE ^NEID. 



369 



Shouting that on the Tiber's brink are drawn 6l 5 

The Trojans up in battle line, while down 

O'er all the plain the Tuscan hosts descend. 

At once is all confusion, everywhere 

Alarm, and passions angrily ablaze. 

In haste they cry for arms : the young men shout 62 ° 

For arms ; sad fathers weep and murmur there. 

A thousand discords blend a mighty roar 

That fills the air, as when in some deep wood 

A flock of birds alight by chance, or swans 

Along the echoing marshes of the Po 62 5 

Scream hoarsely as they swim that fishy stream. 

Quick Turnus seized the opportunity. 
"Ay, cram debate ! " he cried ; " sit here and sing 
The eulogies of peace, while the armed foe 
O'errun your realm ! " No more he spake, but tore 6 3° 
From them away, and from the palace rushed. 
" Bid, Volusus, the Volscian companies 
Fall in," he cried, "and march, the Rutuli ! 
Messapus, Coras and thy brother, get 
The cavalry in line, and flank the plain ! 6 35 

Guard some the city gates and hold the towers ! 
The rest, advance with me where I command ! " 

At once the whole town hurries to the walls. 
Father Latinus, vexed at the sad turn 
Of things, himself forsakes the council-board 6 -*° 

And his great pLans of peace, postponing them. 
Especially he blames himself because 
He welcomed not ^Eneas cordially, 
Nor gave him greeting as a son-in-law 
Unto his realm. Meanwhile, some trenches dig 6 -*5 
24 



3 yo THE ^ENEID. 



Outside the gates, and lug up stones and stakes. 
The hoarse horn sounds the bloody call to war. 
Women and boys are grouped upon the walls, 
A motley throng. The last die summons all. 

To Pallas' temple and her lofty shrines 6 s° 

Goes too the queen, gifts in her hands, a flock 
Of matrons in her train ; while at her side 
The maid Lavinia follows, cause of all 
The woe, her sweet eyes drooping on the ground. 
The matrons enter, and with frankincense 6 ss 

Perfume the temple. On the threshold bent, 
They pour their mournful prayers : " Almighty queen 
Of war, Tritonian maid, break with thy hand 
The Phrygian robber's spear ! Headlong to earth 
Fell him, and crush him 'neath thy lofty gates ! " 66 ° 

Wrought to a flame of fury, for the fight 
Now Turnus arms. Clad in Rutulian mail, 
His brazen armor glares, his legs are greaved 
In gilt, his head still bare ; about his waist 
He buckles on his sword, and, as he runs 66 5 

Down from the lofty citadel, 'tis like 
A flash of gold. His heart beats high ; and he, 
Now full of hope, impatient waits the foe. 
So from his stall, his halter broken, flies, 
At liberty at last, the horse that now 6 7° 

Ranges the open fields, or pastures seeks 
Where mares do herd, or plunges for a bath 
In some familiar stream, outspringing whence 
He proudly neighs while high his neck is arched 
And down his throat and shoulders streams his mane. 6 75 

Camilla meets him with her Volscian line, 



THE iEXEID. 



371 



And at the very gates, though she a queen, 
Dismounts. The whole battalion like herself 
Leap to the earth and leave their steeds. And thus 
She speaks : " Turnus, if thou canst put thy trust 6So 
In one true fearless heart, I have no fear 
But pledge thee I will check the Trojan host 
And ride alone against the Tuscan horse. 
Give me permission with my men to feel 
The outposts of the foe. With the infantry, 6S > 

Remain thou by the town, and guard the walls.'' 
Fixed on the dashing maid were Turnus' eyes, 
And thus he answered her : " Virgin, and flower 
Of Italy, how can I better speak 
Or prove my thanks, than if with thee I share 6 9° 

The danger, since thy spirit bold o'errides 
All fear. A rumor and my skirmishers 
Report it certain that, on mischief bent, 
JEneas has his light armed cavalry 
Pushed on to raid the plains, while he along 6 95 

The unprotected passes of the hills 
Surmounts the heights, advancing on the town. 
I plan an ambuscade where through the woods 
The pathway winds, by which with an armed force 
I both its outlets can command. Do thou /°° 

Charge in close column on the Tuscan horse. 
To thy support shall bold Messapus go, 
The Tibur squadron and the Latin troops : 
Thyself assume the duty of command." 
This said, with like instructions to the front 705 

He spurs Messapus and the leaguer chiefs, 
And hastes himself to meet the enemy. 



372 THE iENEID. 



It is a broken winding mountain-pass, 
Fit for surprise and ambuscade, enclosed 
With foliage dense on every side. Through it ? 10 
A narrow pathway runs, its outlets pinched 
And its approaches blind. Commanding this, 
Along the mountain ridges lies a slope, 
Of which the enemy know nothing yet, 
Where, under cover, on the right and left ?*s 

Attack is easy, whether be the plan 
To charge from off the heights, or roll down rocks. 
Hastes to these well known paths the chief, secures 
His ground, and, by the forest hid, encamps. 

Meantime Diana in the heavenly realm 720 

Summons swift Opis from the sacred train 
Of her attendant virgins, and thus speaks 
In sorrow : " To the cruel war, O maid, 
Camilla goes — no woman else so dear 
To me — in vain equipped with arms like ours. 725 
No new love this that in Diana springs 
To move her soul with sudden tenderness. 
When Metabus from old Privernum's walls 
Fled through the battle's midst and wandered forth, 
He bore her, but an infant then, to share 730 

His exile, giving her her mother's name, — 
Casmilla to Camilla turned by change 
Of but a letter. With her on his breast 
He roamed the far-off hills and lonely woods. 
With cruel steel the Volsci pressed him hard 735 

At every point, and dogged his track from bush 
To bush, encircling him with soldiery, 
When lo ! midway his flight, its banks o'erflowed, 



THE iEXEID. 



373 



The Amasenus foamed, so heavily 

The rain had fallen from the clouds. Himself 740 

Ready to swim, anxious for his sweet load, 

Love for his baby kept him back until, 

Near his wit's end, flashed through his mind a plan 

Almost too late. It happed the warrior bore 

In his stout hand a heavy spear-pole, thick 745 

With knots and hardened o'er the fire. On this 

He binds the child, wrapped in wild cork and bark, 

And lightly ties her round and round along 

Tne shaft. Then in his ponderous right hand 

High poising it, he utters up a prayer : 7^0 

' Diana, gracious virgin, unto thee, 

* Thou goddess of the woods, I consecrate 

' This child thy votary, her father I. 

i In thine own primitive rude armor clad, 

' A suppliant through the air she flies the foe. 755 

1 Take her, I pray thee, goddess, for thine own 

' Whom to the uncertain winds I now commit.' 

And with the word, his arm flung back, he hurls 

The writhing shaft. The waves roar under it, 

Yet on the shrilling spear Camilla speeds, 760 

Poor waif, the swift stream o'er. But Metabus, 

As closer now his thick pursuers press, 

Into the river leaps, and, mastering it, 

Plucks from the grassy turf his spear again, 

The little maiden, by Diana's grace, 765 

Still there. No city in its homes or walls 

E'er sheltered him : nor e'er, too savage he, 

For quarter would he sue. A shepherd's life 

He spent among the mountain solitudes. 



374 TH ? ^NEID. 



Mid thickets and the gloomy woods, he fed 770 

The child with wild milk from a brood-mare's teats, 

And milked them in her baby mouth. Nor she 

Had sooner taken step upon the leaves, 

Than in her wee o'erburdened hands he put 

A dart with its sharp point, and girt a bow 775 

And arrows on her shoulder. In the place 

Of clasp of gold to gather up her hair, 

Or long robe round her wrapped, a tiger's skin 

Hung from her crown and down her back. E'en then 

With little hand she hurled her mimic spears, 780 

Whirled round her head the sling's long slender cords, 

And brought a white swan down, or Strymon crane. 

In vain did many a dame in Tuscan town 

Seek her in marriage for a son. Content 

To be Diana's own, pure as a babe, 785 

She loved her arrows and her maidenhood, 

And nothing else. Would she had ne'er been forced 

Into this war's campaign nor made attempt 

To charge the Trojans ! Ever dear to me, 

She else were one of my companions now. 790 

Speed, then ! for cruel fate is on her track. 

Glide, Nymph, from heaven swift down and search the 

fields 
Of Latium, where this sorry fight begins 
With inauspicious omens. Take thou these, 
And from this quiver an avenging shaft 79? 

Draw out : and whosoe'er her sacred flesh 
Shall with a wound insult, with that shall he 
Pay me the atonement of his blood, alike 
Though he be son of Troy or Italy ; 



THE ^ENEID. 



375 



And after that, I'll her poor body wrap 8o ° 

In hollow cloud, and bear her to the grave, 

Clad in her undishonored armor still, 

And to her native land restore her." While 

Diana spake, the nymph was gliding down 

The yielding currents of the air ; you heard 8 °5 

The rustling of her wings, while yet her form 

Was hid within a black and angry gust. 

Meantime the Trojan army nears the town — 
The Tuscan chiefs and all the cavalry, 
Every battalion numbered and assigned. 8l ° 

All o'er the field proud chargers curvet back 
And forth, and fret against the tight-drawn rein. 
The plain is far and wide one bristling frieze 
Of iron barbs, a blazing sward of high 
Uplifted spears. Upon the other side, 8l 5 

Messapus and the Latin skirmishers, 
Coras and his twin brother, and the maid 
Camilla's cavalry, across the field 
Are seen advancing to the attack : they poise 
Their spears, their right hands flung well back, and 
shake 82 ° 

Their javelins. Fiercer yet and fiercer grows 
The neigh of steeds, the onset of the charge. 

Advanced within the casting of a spear, 
Each army halts. Forth of a sudden bursts 
The battle-cry. They spur their snorting steeds. 8 *5 
Allwheres at once their missiles stream as fast 
As snowflakes fall, and veil the sky with gloom. 
Tyrrhenus and the brave Aconteus charge 
Each other instantly; they interlock 



* 
376 THE ^ENEID. 



Their spears ; 'tis thunder-roar, when first they clash, 8 3° 

And breast to breast their bruised chargers strike. 

Aconteus, like the lightning's flash, or bolt 

Of catapult, shot from his steed is flung 

Headforemost far, his breath knocked out of him. 

At once the lines are in confusion thrown. 8 35 

Forced back, the Latin troops reverse their shields, 

And turn their horses toward the city walls. 

The Trojans press the charge : Asylas leads 

Their columns on, he at their head. And now 

They e'en are at the gates, when, rallying, 8 4° 

The Latins raise a shout, and rein to front 

Their horses' flexile necks. The Trojans then 

It is who fly, beat back within their lines, 

And at full gallop riding. So the tide 

Alternate ebbs and flows ; now floods the shore, 8 *5 

Flinging its foam and spray high o'er the rocks, 

And surging to the beach's farthest edge ; 

Then swift rolls back, and many a stone sweeps off 

With its returning current to the deep, 

Forsaking with each ebbing wave the shore. 8 s° 

Twice did the Tuscans turn the Rutuli, 

And drive them to their walls : twice, driven home, 

They too the Tuscans' backs and bucklers saw. 

But in the third encounter of the fight, 
The battle lines were broken utterly, 8 55 

And each man picked his man. Then came indeed 
The groans of dying men. In seas of blood, 
Arms, corses, half-dead horses mixed with heaps 
Of slaughtered soldiers, weltering lay. The fight 
Grew fierce. Orsilochus, afraid to strike 86 ° 



THE ^NEID. 



377 



At Remulus himself, hurls at his horse 

A shaft, driving the blade just underneath 

Its ear. Wild at the blow, up rears the steed : 

Erect and frenzied with the wound, it paws 

The air, its rider tumbling to the ground. 86 s 

Catillus lays Iolas low, and next 

Herminius, great of soul and great in size 

And prowess, — over whose bare head and down 

Whose naked shoulders flows his yellow hair. 

No wound feared he : so mighty in himself, • 8 7° 

Proof 'gainst all steel he seemed. Through his huge 

sides 
The driven spear goes quivering home, and bends 
The warrior double in his agony. 
Turn where you will, flow streams of crimson gore. 
The combatants deal death where'er they strike, 8 75 
Or fall 'neath wounds that make an honored death. 

Camilla, with her quiver on her back, 
Dashes into the centre of the fray. 
True Amazon, her bosom 'neath one arm 
She bares, so she may thus the better fight. 88 ° 

Now slender javelins thick as sparks of fire 
She shoots ; and now her tireless right hand whirls 
In turn her sturdy two-edged battle-axe. 
Her gilded bow against her shoulder twangs ; 
If e'er beat back she now and then gives way, 88 5 
Still, turning in her saddle, shaft on shaft 
She plies. Ride at her side her chosen friends, 
The maid Larina — all Italian girls — 
And Tulla, and Tarpeia brandishing 
Her brazen battle-axe, — a graceful staff 8 9° 



373 



THE ^NEID. 



That proud Camilla had selected her, 

Fair ministers alike of peace or war. 

So gallop down the banks of Thermodon 

The Amazons of Thrace, when to the war 

They go in arms of many a hue ; so they 8 9S 

Surround Hippolyte ; so with loud shouts 

Of joy, those fair ranks strike their crescent shields 

As they Penthesilea's chariot, 

Returning from the battle field, escort. 

Whom first, whom last, did'st with thy spear, bold 
maid, 9°o 

Then overthrow ? How many dying men 
Did'st stretch upon the ground ? First Clytius' son, 
Eumenius, whose bared breast, as he comes up, 
She pierces with her slender javelin. 
He tumbles, vomiting a stream of blood, 9 ° 5 

And bites the dust, writhing in agony 
Upon his wounds. On him she Liris piles, 
And Pagasus, — one from the saddle thrown 
While tightening the bridle rein, his horse 
Stabbed in the belly \ the other as he ran 9"> 

To aid, and stretched his right hand out in vain 
To save, his falling friend ; together both 
Go headlong down. To keep them company, 
She sends Amastrus, son of Hippotas. 
Forward she presses, and, though at long range, 9»5 
Strikes Tereus with her spear, Harpalycus, 
Demophoon, and Chromis. For each shaft 
The maiden's hand sends whirling on its flight, 
A Trojan falls. Within spear-shot, and clad 
Xn armor quaint, the hunter Ornytus 520 



THE ^NEID. 



379 



Rides an Apulian steed. A wild bull's hide, 
Stripped off entire, envelops his huge frame ; 
A wolf's wide grinning jaws and glistening teeth 
Rise o'er his head : no weapon in his hand 
Except a limb still green. Mid the melee, 925 

He rides a whole head higher than them all. 
An easy mark, she pierces him — light task 
When all before her fled — and thus she spake 
Above the body of the foe : " Did'st think, 
Etrurian, thou wert hunting in the woods ? 930 

The day has come when but a woman's arm 
Hath forced thy bluster back into thy throat. 
Yet one great honor to thy fathers' shades 
Thou tak'st — thou diest at Camilla's hand." 

Then the two giants of the Trojan camp, 935 

Orsilochus and Butes, charge on her. 
Confronting Butes, she drives home her spear 
Betwixt his helmet and his coat of mail, 
Where, as he rides, his neck is jostled bare. 
But from Orsilochus she feigns to fly, 940 

And leads him in a goodly circuit round, 
Then deftly wheels in that, eluding him 
Until, pursued become pursuer, she 
Uprising in the stirrup, blow on blow, 
Sends crashing through the warrior's mail and bones 94s 
Her sturdy battle-axe, deaf to his cries 
And his repeated prayers. Out through the wound, 
His brain still warm comes oozing down his cheeks. 

Just then across her path came Aunus' son, 
A warrior of the Apennines : stock still 950 

He stood, dazed at the sudden sight, and yet, — 



3 So 



THE ;ENEID. 



A true Ligurian he, quick at a ruse 

If fate blocked not the way, — soon as he saw 

"Twas now too late to edge him from the fight 

Or 'scape the onset of the queen, in hope 955 

He might outwit her with a trick, he cried : 

" What though a woman thou, what credit thine, 
There trusting to the odds of thy swift steed ! 
Cut off the means of flight, — dare hand to hand 
Meet me on common ground, and fight afoot, 960 

And I will teach thee that a braggart's fame 
Is but a lie." E'en as he spake, the maid, 
Stung to the very quick and hot with rage, 
To her companion gave the bridle-rein, 
And for fair fight stood ready, fearless she, 965 

Although on foot, with but her naked sword 
And simple buckler. But the warrior, sure 
He had outwitted her, reined instantly 
About, and ploughing with his iron heel 
His nimble courser's flanks, fled like the wind. 970 
" Thou blustering Ligurian, thou art all 
Too easily elated, and hast tried 
Thy country's slippery tactics but in vain ! 
Ne'er to thy father Aunus — trickster too — 
Shall trick of thine secure thy safe return ! " 975 

Thus cried the Amazon : a flame of fire, 
His steed outstripping, on her flying feet 
She overtook him, faced him, seized his reins, 
And took her vengeance in his hated blood 
As easily as when that sacred bird, 9S0 

.The hawk, down swooping from the mountain crags, 
Chases a dove afloat among the clouds, 



THE ^NEID. 



38i 



Clutches, holds, tears her with his claws, blood-drops 
And the torn plumage falling through the air. 

Not with indifferent eyes on such a scene 985 

Looks he, Father of men and gods, who sits 
Enthroned upon Olympus' top : at once 
He calls into the hottest of the fight 
The Tuscan captain Tarchon, and inflames 
His fury with no gentle spurs. 'Tis then, 990 

That to the centre of the carnage where 
The lines are giving way, rides Tarchon up, 
Rallies his flying squadrons with whate'er 
The needed word, calls on each man by name, 
And thus inspires them to the fight again 995 

In spite of their retreat: " What cowardice 
Is this ! " he cries : " O Tuscans, cravens, slaves, 
Hath such unmanliness unnerved your souls ! 
A woman set you flying like a flock 
Of sheep, and turn your serried ranks ! For what IOO ° 
Wield we the sword, or hurl these idle spears ? 
No laggards ye in Venus' battle-fields 
O' nights, or when the crooked Bacchic horn 
Calls to the dance ! To linger for the feast 
Or for the table with its dripping bowl IO °5 

Until the seer proclaims the omens good, 
And the rich banquet calls you to the groves — 
Ay ! there is your ambition, there^your fire ! " 
So spake, then spurred his steed into the jaws 
Of death, and fiercely charged on Venulus : IOI ° 

He grasps his foe and drags him from his horse 
With, his right hand • and, straining every nerve, 
Lifts him to his own saddle-bow. The air 



382 THE ^ENEID. 



Is rent with shouts ; upon them riveted 

Centre the eyes of all the Latin host. 10, 5 

Across the plain fierce Tarchon flies, and bears 

His foe man with his armor on ; the steel 

He breaks from off his own spear-shaft, and seeks 

Some open armor-chink where he may deal 

A deadly wound. The other, fighting back, I02 ° 

Wards off the hand that plunges at his throat, 

And matches strength with strength. So flying high, 

A fiery eagle lifts the snake he stooped 

To snatch, entangled round his feet and gripped 

Within his claws : the wounded serpent coils I02 5 

Its sinuous folds ; its bristling scales are up ; 

Its head is arched to strike, and open-mouthed 

It hisses : none the less with his hooked beak 

The eagle rends it as it writhes, his wings 

Loud flapping all the while against the air. io 3° 

So Tarchon swoops his prey from off the field, 

Triumphant over Venulus. Again 

The Tuscans charge, now rallying to the lead 

And fortune of their chief. 'Tis just at this 

That death-doomed Aruns, with his spear in hand, IQ 35 

Moves cautiously before Camilla's swift 

Advance, and edges round and round to find ■ 

His easiest opportunity. Where'er 

The dashing maiden gallops through the lines, 

There Aruns creeps and tracks her stealthily. T ° 4 ° 

Whene'er she rides triumphant back, or flies 

The foe, then furtively aside the youth 

His swift steed reins. Now this approach, now that 

He tries, and now the whole round circuit scours, 



THE ^ENEID. $$3 



Still poising vengefully his fatal spear. IO -*5 

Chanced there that Chloreus, once a holy priest 
Of Cybele, in Trojan armor flashed, 
Seen from afar, a shining mark. He spurred 
A foaming steed caparisoned beneath 
A robe of skins with gold laced up, and scales lo $° 
Of brass like feathers o'er each other lapped. 
Himself, in foreign blue and purple bright, 
Shot Cretan arrows from a Lycian bow 
That, tipped with gold, against his shoulder twanged : 
Gold too the helmet of the priest, and gold ' io ss 
The clasp that knotted up his yellow cloak 
In rustling flaxen folds, — his tunic wrought 
With needle work, — wild gaudy trappings down 
His legs. Blind to all else, — either that she 
Might deck her with the gilt from him despoiled, Io6 ° 
Or hang on temple-gate his Trojan arms, — 
The huntress maid was in pursuit of him 
Outsingled from that whole melee of war. 
Past the long lines of battle, rash she rode, 
Fired with a woman's eagerness for spoils Io6 s 

And booty such as these. Then 'twas, at last, 
That Aruns seized his opportunity, 
And from his cover launched a javelin, 
While to the gods he lifted up this prayer : 
" O thou, Apollo, chief among the gods, io 7° 

Holy Soracte's guardian lord, whom we 
Worship before all other gods, whose flames 
We feed with fagots of the blazing pine, 
And through whose fires we, thy adorers, walk 
O'er beds of coals, protected by our faith, — io 7S 



3H 



THE .ENEID. 



Deign, O almighty father, to wash out 

This stain upon our arms ! No armor stripped 

For trophy from a fainting girl seek I, 

Nor spoils. 'Tis other deeds shall win me praise. 

Let my hand crush but this malignant pest, IoSo 

And I content will go inglorious home." 

Much as he cared to grant, Apollo heard ; 
The rest he did but puff into the air ; — 
Granted the beggar's wish that he might kill 
Camilla, whelming her with sudden death; IoS s 

But granted not that his own native land 
Should look on his return : — that prayer the winds 
Swept into space. So 'twas, that, as the shaft 
Leaping from Aruns' hand whirred through the air, 
Each gallant Volscian caught the sound, and bent io 9° 
His eyes upon his queen, unconscious she 
Of e'er a sound or ripple in the breeze, 
Or weapon speeding from afar, till deep 
In her bare bosom driven, the javelin hung, 
And, there forced home, drank up her virgin blood. io 95 
Her horror-struck companions gather round 
And hold their fainting mistress up, while half 
In fear and half in triumph Aruns flies, — 
None there so utterly unmanned as he 
Who dares no longer either trust his spear IIO ° 

Or face the virgin's steel. So stealthily, 
The blood of shepherd or of bullock sucked, 
Into the mountain gorges slinks a wolf 
In terror at his own audacity, 

Ere hunter's spear can follow him : he drops iio 5 

And to his belly hugs his trembling tail 



THE ^NEID. 385 



And hides him in the wood. So stole from sight 

Uneasy Aruns, glad at his escape, 

And, mingling in the ranks, was lost to view. 

The dying maid is tugging at the spear : " lo 

The iron blade deep in her bosom driven, 
Sticks 'twixt her ribs. She swoons with loss of blood : 
Her fainting eyes grow dim and cold in death : 
Fades out the rose hue, on her cheek but now, 
Till with her latest breath she Acca calls — rii s 

The~ one companion of Camilla she, 
Who loyalest had been, and who had shared 
Her every care — and thus she speaks to her : 
" I have been, sister Acca, strong till now; 
But ah, this rankling wound is killing me, II2 ° 

And all around grows black as night. Fly thou, 
And Turnus this my last injunction bear — 
To stem the fight and from the city fend 
The Trojans off ! Now, now, farewell." And while 
She spake, the reins were slipping from her hand, II2 s 
And helplessly she sank upon the ground 
Till, her cold limbs all slowly languishing, 
Her neck adroop, she last let go her spear, 
And laid her head, death-stricken, down to rest. 
One sigh, and the grieved spirit sped to heaven. "3° 

Ah ! mighty then the roar that thunders up, 
And strikes the golden stars. Camilla slain, 
The battle rages hotter than before, 
And the whole Trojan line, the Tuscan chiefs, 
Evander's light Arcadian cavalry, "35 

All charge at once in one unbroken front. 

Still all the while, upon the mountain top, 



386 



THE ^ENEID. 



There Opis sat, Diana's sentinel, 

And calmly watched the fight. But when, amid 

That clash of furious champions, far she saw JI 4° 

Camilla pay death's cruel doom, she groaned, 

And from the bottom of her heart cried out : 

" Ah, maiden ! too, too hard the penalty 

Thou pay'st for thy endeavor in war's lists 

To break the Trojan strength. Of what avail, IX ^5 

That, in the forests left a lonely waif, 

Thou hast Diana served, and on thy back 

Our arrows borne ! Yet thee hath not our queen 

Left unremembered in the throes of death. 

The story of thy fate shall fill the earth ; JI 5° 

But never thine the infamy shall be 

Of dying unavenged. Who'er it is 

Hath marred thy body with a wound, shall for't 

Atone, as he deserves, in his own blood." 

Beneath the summit of a hill there stood "55 

A heavy mound of earth, the sepulchre 
Of King Dercennus, an old Latin king, 
Enshadowed in oak foliage. Unto this, 
At once the fair nymph winged her rapid flight, 
And looked on Aruns from atop the tomb. Il6 ° 

Soon as she saw him and his glittering arms, 
A very bag of wind, " Why go that way ? " 
She cried : " Bear here thy step ! A doomed man thou, 
Come hither, that thou may'st rewarded be 
As fits Camilla's murderer. And yet Il6 5 

Shall such as thou fall by Diana's steel ? " 
And when she this had said, the Thracian nymph 
A swift shaft from her golden quiver drew, 



THE ;ENEID. 



3*7 



And stretched it on her bow with deadly aim. 

Far back she pulled the cord, till the curved tips IJ 7°- 

Did meet, and, each hand to the utmost strained, 

Touched with her left the arrow-head, her right 

The bow-string and her breast. In the same breath 

And instantly, did Aruns hear the twang 

And whistling of the shaft, and pierced the steel tx 75 

His side. His comrades, careless of his fate, 

There leave the dying man to groan his last, — 

Unmarked the dust-heap where he lies afield. 

Opis to high Olympus wings her flight. 

Camilla's light-horse are the first to turn, IlSo 

Their leader slain. The routed Rutuli 
Take flight. E'en brave Atinas flies. The chiefs 
Are scattered : their abandoned squadrons run 
To cover, wheel their steeds and gallop toward 
The town : nor is there one lifts spear to check, Il8 5 
Or turns to stem the Trojans as they charge 
And hurl destruction. All unstrung, they fling 
Their bows across their weary shoulders while, 
To powder trod, the earth beats to the hoofs 
Of their four-footed steeds. Dense clouds of dust "9° 
Roll toward the town. Women are on the walls, 
Who strike their breasts, and to the stars of heaven 
Lift their shrill shrieks. E'en they, w r ho are the first 
To rush in at the open gates, escape 
Not so the pang of death, for in their ranks "95 

Are mingled many of the foe : and there, 
On their own thresholds* in their native walls, 
And 'neath the shelter of their very homes 
Cut down, they breathe their lives away. Some shut 



388 



THE ^NEID. 



The gates, and, though their comrades beg, dare not I2 °° 

Re-ope the way or let them in the town. 

Begins a horrid butchery — alike 

Of those who with their spears ward off, and those 

Who fly but to encounter worse : so packed 

The throng, some headlong in the ditches fall ; I2 °s 

Some, blind with terror, charging at full speed, 

Keep battering at the gates and at their barred 

And heavy doors. True patriots still at heart, — 

Camilla in their eyes, — the women e'en 

Hurl missiles from the walls with their weak hands I2I ° 

Amid the very hottest of the fight :. 

In wild disorder they, in place of steel, 

Ply stakes, rough sticks of wood, fire-hardened poles, 

Fearless and foremost for their homes to die. 

Meantime is Turnus in the woods o'erwhelmed 121 => 
At the disastrous tidings : Acca tells 
The chieftain of the mighty rout ; — how crushed 
Is now the Volscian line; — Camilla slain; — 
The enemy with victory flushed, possessed 
Of every point, massed for attack, and then, I22 ° 

That moment, striking terror to the town. 
He, wild with rage — for so Jove's harsh decrees 
Demand — deserts his cover in the hills, 
And leaves behind the forest fastnesses. 

Scarce had he gone from sight and reached the 
plain. I22 5 

When, entering at the now abandoned pass, 
^Eneas crossed the mountain, and emerged 
From out the shadow of, the woods. Thus both 
Were rapidly advancing on the walls, — 



THE ^ENEID. 389 



So little way apart, it seemed but one I23 ° 

Long line of march. Nor did ^Eneas see 

The dust clouds vaporing o'er the plain afar 

And the Laurentian columns in his van, 

Ere Turnus recognized his deadly foe 

^Eneas, as he heard the tramp of men I2 35 

And snort of steeds. At once they would have met, 

And dared the fight, had not flushed Phoebus plunged 

1 His weary steeds into the western deep, 
And drawn again the curtains of the night 

j Above the dying day. Before the town 12 *° 

They both encamp, and throw entrenchments up. 






TWELFTH BOOK. 

*" I ^HOUGH Turnus sees the Latins losing heart, 

-*■ Himself a mark for every eye, while they, 
Spent by defeat, now fling his promises 
Back in his teeth, he but the fiercer burns, 
And puts new courage on. As in the woods 5 

Of Africa, though deep the hunter's steel 
Hath gashed the lion's breast, yet to the last 
He fronts the fight, and roars, and shakes the mane 
That tumbles down his tawny neck, and snaps, 
Undaunted by't, the invader's clinging spear, IC 

His mouth foaming with blood : so Turnus' rage 
At white heat glows, and thus he speaks the king — 
Thus he excitedly begins : " 'Tis not 
That Turnus hesitates. I would not have 
These dastard Trojans take their challenge back, l 5 
Or now withdraw the gage they once threw down. 
I go to meet them face to face. Arrange 
Thou, father, the solemnities, and let 
The compact be confirmed. Either will I 
That Trojan vagabond from Asia send 2C 

With this right hand to hell, and with my sword — 
The Latins need but sit and see — alone 
Refute the charge they all unite to make, 
Or he shall have them for his slaves, and I 
Will yield Lavinia up to wed with him." *s 

Latinus calmly answers him : " O thou, 



THE iENEID. 



39 1 



Brave-hearted youth, since thy fierce spirit dares 

Too much, more need my counsel be discreet, 

And that I cautiously each hazard weigh. 

Thou countest thine thy father Daunus' realm 30 

And many a captured town, nor shalt thou lack 

Latinus' gold or friendship. On the soil 

Of Latium and Laurentum, other brides 

There are, whose blood would not dishonor thine. 

In plain words, let me bare my mind, and speak 35 

The things that yet are hard to say : do thou 

Take them to heart. The oracles of gods 

And men alike forbid my daughter e'er 

Should native suitor wed. And yet, o'ercome 

By love of thee, our kinship, and the tears 4 ° 

Of my unhappy wife, I broke all bonds, 

Robbed of his promised bride my son-in-law, 

And in unholy war engaged. Since then, 

Thou knowest, Turnus, what disasters, what 

Defeats do follow me, — nay, how much thou 45 

Hast suffered more than all the rest. In two 

Great battles beaten, in its capital 

We scarce maintain the hopes of Italy : 

The Tiber's current with our blood doth stream : 

Broadcast, the fields are whitening with our bones. 5° 

Why beat I back and forth ? What madness is't 

My resolution turns ? If Turnus dead, 

I sure would make alliance with the foe, 

Why, Turnus living, not the combat end ? 

What will my kin, the Rutuli, what will 55 

The rest of Italy not say, if I — 

May fortune ne'er make true the utterance ! — 



392 THE ^NEID. 



Betray thee to thy death, who cam'st to wed 

My child? Review the uncertainties of war; 

Have pity on thy father, full of years 6o 

And sorrow, separated far from thee 

In Ardea thine own native land ! " In vain : 

Words turn the wrath of Turnus not away; 

He burns the more, and sicker grows by cure. 

Once master of his voice, he thus begins : 6 s 

" I beg thee, best of men, lay off the care 
Thou bearest for my sake, and let me die 
So I but win me praise. Good sire, I too 
Have handled steel, nor is my spear a boy's ; 
Blood follows even from the wounds I make : 70 

Nor will his goddess mother now be near 
To hide his flight beneath a petticoat 
Of cloud, and in blind shadows wrap him up. " 

In terror at this new ordeal of arms, 
The queen meantime did naught but weep, and cling 75 
To her bold son-in-law, herself resolved 
To die. " I pray thee, Turnus, by these tears, 
If aught Amata's honor stirs thy heart, 
Thou now sole hope and solace of my sad 
Old age, — thou now upon whose shoulders rest 8o 
Latinus' empire and good name and all 
His tottering house, forbear the fight with Troy ! 
For in that combat whatsoever fate 
Await thee, Turnus, doth await me too. 
With thee will I give o'er the life I else 8 s 

Should loathe ; nor will I e'er, a captive, look 
Upon JEneas as my son-in-law." 

Echoes Lavinia back her mother's words, 



THE ^NEID. 393 



Her crimsoning face adrip with tears, and deep 

The blush that burns beneath her blazing cheeks, 90 

Suffusing them. With blood-red purple so 

Might one tinge ivory ; so amid a mass 

Of roses might white lilies flush — so bright 

The color of the maiden's cheek. Love thrills 

The warrior, and his eyes cannot let go 9S 

The girl. He burns the hotter for the fight, 

And to Amata briefly answers thus : 

" I beg thee, mother, not with tears and these 

Ill-omened partings follow me, as forth 

Into the battle's stern appeal I fare : 1QO 

The stay of death is not at Turnus' will. 

Idmon, be herald thou, and bear these words 

Of mine unto the Phrygian tyrant, though 

They please him not : — To-morrow, soon as Dawn, 

Borne in her crimson car, shall flush the east, io 5 

Let him not lead against the Rutuli 

The Trojan charge, but leave them both at rest, 

While in his blood or mine we end the war ; 

Lavinia's hand be his, who conquers there ! " 

Soon as he speaks he hastily goes forth, XI ° 

Calls for his steeds, and gazes in delight 
To see them champ their bits before his face. 
Them Orithyia to Pilumnus gave 
As mark of her esteem, — whiter than snow 
And swifter than the wind : about them stand IX 5 

The busy grooms, who pat with open palm 
Their swelling chests, and comb their flowing manes. 
He o'er his shoulders flings his coat of mail, 
Heavy with rings of gold and shining brass ; 



3 9 4 THE ;ENEID. 



Buckles at easy reach his sword, and puts I2 ° 

His buckler and his red-plumed helmet on. 

It was a sword the God of Fire himself 

Had for his father Daunus made, and dipped 

At white heat in the Stygian pool. He lifts 

With lusty grasp his mighty spear that leans I2 5 

'Gainst a huge pillar in the inner court — 

The spear was Actor the Auruncan's once, 

A battle-spoil. He shakes the quivering shaft, 

And cries : " Now, thou good spear, that never failed 

My summons yet, the hour hath come ! The hand x 3° 

Of Turnus now wields thee, whom once the hand 

Of mighty Actor wielded. Help thou lay 

The body of this Phrygian weakling low ! 

With stout grip tear his shattered coat of mail, 

And drag in dust the locks, that now with myrrh tfs 

Are scented, and around hot irons curled." 

Such is the fury of his mood, that sparks 

Of fire stream off his blazing face ; with flame 

His fierce eyes flash. So, ere encounter, roars i 

An angry bull : to feed his rage he rubs l *° 

His horns against a tree ; he butts the wind, 

And ploughs the sand in prelude to the fight. 

In the brave armor that his mother gave, 
iEneas for the combat glows no less : 
He lashes him to fury, glad to end *45 

The war upon the proffered terms. His friends' 
And sad lulus' fears he sets at rest, 
Revealing them the fates, and bids his men 
Bear king Latinus definite reply, 
And fix with him upon the terms of peace. j s° . 



THE ^NEID. 



395 



Scarce was the morrow's dawn illumining 
The mountain peaks, — scarce from the ocean's depths 
The horses of the Sun leapt up and breathed 
Fire from their panting nostrils, when went forth 
Trojans and Rutuli alike to set r 55 

Lists for the fight, and, in the centre, hearths 
And grassy altars for their common gods ; 
While some, with aprons bound, and garlanded 
With chaplets, fire and water brought. Advance 
From out the crowded gates the Italian host l6 ° 

And pour its dart-armed columns o'er the plain. 
Upon the other side, the whole array, — 
Trojan and Tyrrhene armies, — quick move up 
Beneath their various standards : — all equipped 
No less than if stern battle called to arms. l6 5 

Amid the ranks, the chiefs ride to and fro, 
In gold and purple glittering, — Mnestheus there, 
Descendant of Assaracus ; there brave 
Asylas ; there Messapus, tamer he 
Of steeds, and son of Neptune. At a sign, x 7° 

Each to his own position moves, and there 
They in the earth set up their spears, and lay 
Their shields upon the grass. Eager to see, 
The women next, the idle crowd, the weak 
Old men beset each roof and tower, while some *75 
Stand on the very summits of the gates. 

Meantime from what is now Mount Alban called — 
'Twas then a hill with neither honor, name, 
Nor glory — Juno, looking from the height, 
Surveyed the field, the battle lines alike l8 ° 

Of Latin and of Trojan, and the town 



39^ 



THE ^NEID. 



Of king Latinus. Quickly thus she spake — 

Goddess to naiad — to Turnus' sister, who 

Is genius of the lake and rippling stream, — 

An honor Jove, high king of heaven, conferred l8 s 

Upon her for her lost virginity : 

" O nymph, thou river beauty, thou so dear 

Unto my soul, thou know'st that thee alone 

I did prefer of all the Latin girls 

Uplifted to great Jove's ungrateful bed, z 9° 

And gladly gave thee room in heaven. Learn thou, 

Juturna, of the grief — nor blame me for't — 

That waits thee. Long as fortune suffered me, 

Or fate did let the Latin state go on, 

I guarded Turnus and thy house. The time J 95 

Now comes when I look on the youth and lo ! 

He struggles with o'ermastering odds : the day 

Of doom, the inexorable blow is nigh. 

I cannot gaze upon the fight, nor stand 

This compact. If thou for thy brother's sake 2 °° 

Dar'st strike at once, go thou as go thou should'st, 

And so some better issue may attend 

Perchance our grief." Scarce this she spake, when burst 

A flood of tears from forth Juturna's eyes, 

And thrice and four times she her fair breast smote. 2 °s 

"Not this," Saturnian Juno cried, "the time 

For tears ! Haste thou, and, if there be a way, 

Thy brother snatch from death ! Stir up bad blood, 

Break off the compact they have made, and me 

Count backer of the mischief." Thus she urged, 21 ° 

Then left Juturna hesitating still, 

Her heart distraught with bitter agony. 



THE ^NEID. 397 



Meantime the royal companies move out. 
Latinus in his four-horse chariot rides 
In great magnificence. Twelve golden spikes 2I 
His glittering temples crown and typify 
His ancestor the sun. But Turnus' car 
Is drawn by two white steeds, and in his hand 
He brandishes two broad-point spears. So, too, 
Father ^Eneas, fount of Roman stock, 22 

Bright in his starry shield and heaven-forged arms, 
Advances from his camp, and at his side 
Ascanius comes, who, next to him, is now 
The hope of Rome. Robed in pure white, a priest 
Has brought a bristly pig and unshorn sheep, 22 

And laid the victims on the blazing shrines. 
Turning their faces to the rising sun, 
They sprinkle from their hands the salted meal, 
Cut with their knives the forelocks of the beasts, 
And their libations on the altar pour. 2 3 

Then reverent ^Eneas drew his sword 
And thus he prayed : "Now witness thou my vow, 
O Sun ■ and thou, the soil on. which I stand 
And for whose sake I have endured so much ; 
Thou too, Almighty Father; thou, I beg, 2 3 

Saturnian Juno, kinder goddess now; 
Thou, valiant father Mars, who at thy will 
Determinest all wars ; nay, I invoke 
All founts and streams, whatever deities 
In upper air, or powers in azure deep 2 '4« 

There be: — if victory shall hap to fall 
To Turnus of Ausonia, be it then 
Agreed, that vanquished we depart and go 



398 THE .ENEID. 



Unto Evander's walls, — lulus yield 

The land, — and henceforth not a Trojan lift 2 «5 

Rebellious arms or raise his sword against 

This realm. But if the victory shall declare 

The field our own — as so I think it will, 

As so the will is of the gods — I ne'er 

Will make the Italians slaves to Troy, nor. seek 2 5° 

For empire for myself ! No, then let both 

The unconquered races in eternal league 

On equal terms unite. Mine shall it be 

To regulate the worship of the gods : 

But let Latinus, father mine in-law, 2 ss 

Retain the sword and empire of the state : 

For me a city shall the Trojans build, 

To which Lavinia shall her own name give." 

Thus spake ^Eneas first. Latinus then 
In this wise followed him, his eyes to heaven 26 ° 

Uplifted, and his right hand toward trie stars : 
" So swear I too, so help me Earth and Sea 
And Stars, ^Eneas ! By Latona's twins 
I swear it, and by Janus' double face ; 
I swear it, by the infernal powers below, 26 5 

And by grim Pluto's shrines. Let Jupiter 
Give ear, who with the thunder sanctifies 
The given word. I on the altar lay 
My hand : these common fires and deities 
I call to witness : — Henceforth Italy 2 7° 

Shall never break our peace, come what come may. 
No power shall change my will, not though the earth 
It deluge and o'erwhelm beneath the flood, 
Or mingle heaven and hell. As soon shall put 



THE iENEID. 399 



This sceptre forth" — for he a sceptre chanced 275 
In his right hand to hold — " its tender leaves 
And shade, though of the parent tree bereft, 
Cut in the woods e'en from the very root, 
And of its limbs and foliage stripped — no more 
A living shoot, for now the artist's hand 28 ° 

Hath feruled it with ornaments of brass, 
Arid given it to Latium's king to wear." 

Such were the words with which they ratify 
Their compact in the presence of the chiefs. 
Then, in due form, the sacred victims' throats 28 5 

They cut, rip the still quivering flesh, and load 
The altars with overflowing platters-full. 

Long ere this, seems it to the Rutuli 
No equal fight \ and mingled feelings thrill 
Their breasts, the more that at near hand they see 2 9° 
The combatants' disparity of strength. 
It heightens their alarm that Turnus walks 
With silent step, and bows with downcast eyes 
Before the altars like a suppliant there, 
His cheeks all wan, his manly face so pale. 2 9s 

Soon as Juturna, Turnus' sister, sees 
This feeling gaining ground, and wavering now 
The faint heart of the crowd, amid the throng 
She mingles, conscious of the turn of things : 
The form of Camers she assumes, — a man 300 

Of proud and ancient stock, his father's name 
Illustrious once in valor's list, and he 
A valiant soldier. There a thousand tales 
She spreads, and thus she speaks : " O Rutuli, 
Is't not a shame to sacrifice one life 305 



400 



THE ^ENEID. 



For all the rest ? In numbers and in strength 

Do we not equal them ? Lo ! here all Troy 

And all Arcadia in our front arrayed, 

Etruria's fated host and Turnus' foes, 

Scarce half enough to fight us man to man ! 310 

What though he go in glory to the gods, 

Unto whose altars he is consecrate, 

And live immortal in the mouths of men 

If, robbed of native land, which now in peace 

We hold, we then must serve these haughty lords ! " 315 

Already more and more by such harangues 
The soldiers' hearts are fired ; from rank to rank 
The murmur creeps and, one and all at last, 
Both Latins and Laurentians change their minds. 
They, who but late hoped for surcease of war 320 

And for the state's security, now call 
To arms, and shout to have the compact broke, 
And say they pity Turnus' cruel fate. 
Another and a greater influence still 
Juturna adds — an omen from on high : 325 

No apter e'er alarmed Italian hearts 
Or tricked them with its wondrousness. For thwart 
The reddened sky the fiery bird of Jove 
Flies down, chasing a squalling, fluttering flock 
Of water-fowl, till, with a sudden swoop 330 

To ocean, savagely the fairest swan 
He clutches in his claws. The Italians gaze 
Intent, when lo ! the birds with shrill cries turn, — 
Strange sight ! — and darken with their wings the sky ; 
They gather like a cloud and through the air 335 

Pursue their foe, till, overcome at last 



THE ^NEID. 



401 



By their attack and his own weight, he tires, 
Drops from his clutches in the stream his prey, 
And flies far out of sight among the clouds. 

At this, the Rutuli with shouts salute 340 

The omen, and their hands lay on their steel. 
Augur Tolumnius is the first to speak : 
" This, this it was that in my vows I sought. 
And now I see, I recognize the gods. 
With me to lead you on, unsheathe your swords, 345 
Rutulians, whom this robber from abroad 
Attacks and terrifies like feeble birds, — 
The ruthless plunderer of your shores ! He too 
Shall fly and spread his sails far out to sea. 
Close up your ranks, one purpose in your souls, 350 
And rescue from the fight your victim king ! " 
And_at the word, advancing from the front, 
He hurled his javelin at the enemy's lines. 
The whizzing shaft did shriek as straight it cut 
Its pathway through the air. As forth it sped, 355 
A mighty yell went up : from line to line 
The riot ran ; each heart beat hot and hard. 
On flew the spear. Chanced in its way, the forms 
Of nine fair brothers stood, whom one good wife — 
The Tuscan mother of so many sons — 360 

Had borne Gylippus the Arcadian chief. 
The ribs of one of these it pierced — a youth 
Of noble mien in glittering armor clad — 
Just midway where the embroidered belt rests down 
Upon t4ie belly and the buckle clasps 365 

Its ends, and stretched him on the yellow sands. 
The brothers start, a fiery phalanx mad 
26 



402 THE iENEID. 



With grief; part draw their swords, part snatch their 

spears, 
And blindly charge. Laurentum's hosts advance 
To beat them back, while to their aid a rush 370 

Of Agyllini and of Trojans swarm, 
And of Arcadians with their painted shields. 

Thus doth one common craze fire all to put 
The issue to the sword. They strip the shrines : 
O'er the whole heaven there sweeps a murky storm 375 
Of missiles, and the iron hail falls thick 
And fast. They bear away the bowls and hearths. 
Latinus flies, himself regathering up 
His gods insulted at this breach of faith. 
The rest their chariots yoke, or at a bound 380 

Leap on their steeds, draw sword, and form in line. 
Eager to break the truce, Messapus spurs 
His charger in Aulestes' face to fright 
Him back — a Tuscan king he was, who wore 
The signs of royalty. As he retreats, 385 

Unluckily he stumbles mid the shrines 
Behind his back, and falls upon his head 
And shoulders : up Messapus hotly flies 
With spear in hand, and deaf to every prayer, 
High on his steed his heavy steel thrusts hard : 390 
" So much for him. A better victim this " 
He cries, " to feed the shrines of mighty gods." 
The Italians rush and strip the yet warm corse. 

From off the altar Chorinaeus grasps 
A burning brand, and, fronting Ebusus, * 395 

Dashes the flames into his face as he 
Comes up to strike a blow. His monstrous beard 



THE ^NEID. 



403 



Stinks as it burns, and blazes all abroad. 

The other follows, twines his left hand midst 

His frightened foeman's hair, and to the earth 400 

Dashes him down. There held beneath his knee, 

He with his dagger stabs him in the side. 

With drawn sword Podilarius overtakes 

The shepherd Alsus, close upon his heels 

As through the battle van and storm he flies : 4 °s 

But he, his axe drawn back, splits half and half 

From brow to chin his foe's o'er-leaning face, 

And floods his armor right and left with spurts 

Of blood. In endless rest, in iron sleep, 

His eyes are shut, locked in eternal night. ^ IO 

Pious ^Eneas stretched his unarmed hand, 
And, helmet off, thus shouted to his men : 
" What means this rush ? What is this strife that 

springs 
So sudden up ? Your passions curb ! For now 
The compact hath been sealed, and all its terms 415 
Agreed. To me alone the fight belongs. 
Leave it to me and have no fear ! My hand 
Shall make my challenge good. Turnus is mine 
By all these sacred rites." As thus he spake, 
Ere half was spoken, lo ! a whizzing bolt ^ ro 

Struck down the hero, though none ever knew 
Whose hand 'twas shot, whose bow-string drove it 

home, 
Or whether god or chance did bring so great 
An honor to the Rutuli. Unclaimed 
The glory of that famous blow, — no man 425 

Dared boast 'twas he that did ^Eneas wound. 



4 o 4 THE iENEID. 



Turnus no sooner sees ^EneaS fall, 
And the confusion of his staff, than hot 
With sudden hope, he kindles for the fight. 
He shouts to have at once his steeds and arms, 430 
Springs fiercely at a bound into his car, 
And grasps in his own hands the reins. In death 
He stretches many a soldier's body brave, 
As on he speeds ; o'er heaps of dying rides ; 
Crushes beneath his wheels rank after rank ; 435 

Or, as they fly, hurls after them the spears 
He spoils them of. So by cool Hebrus' stream 
Doth bloody Mars, to stir the fight, fierce beat 
His shield, and give his furious coursers rein : 
They on the open field outstrip the winds — 440 

South Wind or West : pulses remotest Thrace 
Beneath the beating of their hoofs ; round him, 
Companions of the god, Fear's scowling face 
And Rage and Treachery press on. So through 
The battle Turnus drives his steeds, that reek 445 
With sweat, trampling the wretched, slaughtered foe : 
His swift wheels fling a spray of blood ; blood soaks 
His courser's hoof-prints in the sand. And now 
He lays low Sthenelus and Thamyris 
And Pholus, hand to hand the latter twain, 450 

The other at long range : at long range too 
Glaucus and Lades, sons whom Imbrasus 
Had raised in Lycia and had armed alike 
To fight on foot or to outride the wind. 

Eumedes from another quarter rides 455 

Into the centre of the fight — a son 
Of rare old Dolon and renowned in war. 



THE ^NEID. 



405 



His grandsire's name he bore, — in heart and hand 

More like his father who, sent as a spy 

Into the Grecian camp, made bold to ask 4 6 ° 

Achilles' chariot for his recompense : 

But Diomed paid him in other coin 

For his effrontery : no more he claims . 

Achilles' steeds. His son it is, whom now 

Turnus sees fronting him upon the field. 465 

First hurling from afar his slender spear, 

He checks his steeds, leaps from his chariot down, 

And comes upon his dying, falling foe 

Whose neck he tramples under foot, twists out . 

The dagger from his hand, and in his throat 47° 

Deep stains its shining blade : o'er him he shouts : 

" Lo, Trojan! these the fields, this the Italy, 

Which thou hast sought in war and which at last 

Thou measurest with thy length ! this the reward 

They win, who dare cross swords with me ! 'Tis thus 475 

Ye lay foundations for your walls ! " Again 

He hurls his spear and sends Asbutes next 

To bear Eumedes company; to them 

Adds Chloreus, Sybaris, Thersilochus, 

And Dares, and Thymcetes as he falls -* So 

From off his plunging courser's neck. The blasts 

Of Thracian Boreas do not fiercer roar 

O'er the JEge&n sea, dashing the waves 

Against the cliffs, driving the clouds athwart 

The sky where'er it lists the winds to blow. 4S5 

So Turnus cuts his way, and where he comes 

Whole lines break ranks and routed squadrons fly : 

The fury of his onset clears the field. 



4 o6 THE ^NEID. 



The breezes, as he cleaves them with his car, 
Toss back his fluttering plumes. Too bold his charge, 490 
Too fierce his soul for Phegeus to engage, 
Who flings himself before the chariot wheels, 
And with his right hand on the foaming bits 
Turns back the heads of those swift-charging steeds. 
For while he tugs, and hangs upon the yoke, 495 

The broad blade strikes his unprotected side, 
And tears and bores his double coat of mail, 
And gashes through the skin. He, with his shield 
Upraised, still turns upon his foe and seeks, 
His sword drawn back, to strike and save himself. 5°q 
Too late ! the wheel and swift-revolving hub 
Throw him headforemost sprawling on the ground, 
While Turnus, passing with his sword, cuts off 
The head betwixt the breastplate and the helm, 
And leaves the severed trunk upon the sand. 505 

While the victorious Turnus litters thus 
The battle-field with death, in the mean time 
Mnestheus, faithful Achates, and the boy 
Ascanius in their company, have led 
^Eneas to his tent, bedrenched with blood, 5*o 

Leaning his weight at each alternate step 
On his long spear. He frets, and tries to draw 
The broken arrow-head from out the wound. 
He bids them take the nearest way for help ; 
Bids with a broadsword lay the gash apart, 515 

Probe to the very hiding of the barb, 
And send him to the battle back again. 

It happed lapis, son of Iasius, 
Whom Phoebus loved more than all other men, 



THE iEXEID. 



407 



Was on the spot. To him Apollo once, 520 

Seized with excessive fondness, laughing gave 
The arts and gifts that are his own — the power 
Of prophecy, music, and the archer's skill. 
But he, so he his dying father's life 
Might eke, chose rather to be taught the use 525 

Of herbs, the art of cure, and to be trained 
In homely and inglorious knowledges. 
There stood ^neas, chafing angrily 
And leaning on his mighty battle-spear, 
Nor all the chiefs that round him densely thronged, 530 
Nor sorrowing lulus' sobs, had power 
To move him from the spot. In vain, his robe 
Thrown back and knotted in Paeonian style, 
The old leech, skilful though his fingers were, 
And powerful Apollo's remedies. 535 

Kept probing nervously ; in vain he pulied 
The arrow with his hand, and nipped the barb 
With his stout forceps. Fortune showed no way, 
Nor ever came Apollo there to help ; 
But fiercer, fiercer from the field the din 540 

Of battle grows, and nears and nears defeat. 
E'en as they gaze, the air is stiff with dust, 
The cavalry come riding back ; thick fall 
The arrows in the centre of the camp, 
And sadly mingle in the air the cries 54s 

Of those who fight, the groans of those who fall. 
'Twas then his mother, Venus, shocked to see 
Her son in agony so undeserved, 
From Cretan Ida plucked the dittany, 
Its stalk ablaze with feathery leaves and flowers 550 



408 



THE .ENEID. 



Of purple hue, on which the wild goats wont 

To feed when the swift arrows pierce their skin. 

This Venus brings, enveloped in a cloud : 

An unseen nurse, she in the shining vat 

Instils its juice ; ambrosial, balmy dews 555 

And the sweet all-heal herb she sprinkles. Old 

lapis bathes the cut, though he wots not 

The lotion, until suddenly all pain 

Hath from the body fled, and not a drop 

E'en from the bottom of the wound flows more. 560 

The arrow, following now the leech's hand, 

Falls out of its own will ; and strength comes back 

Again, restored to all it was before. 

" Quick fetch the hero's arms ! Why stand ye still ? " 

lapis cries, — the first to fire their souls* 565 

To face again the foe. " Not this the work 

Of human power, or master's skill ! Not mine 

The hand, JEneas, that hath saved thy life ! 

Some god, more powerful far, hath clone this thing, 

And lent thee to a nobler destiny." 570 

He, eager for the fray, his golden greaves 
Already had laced up on either side. 
He cannot brook delay, but waves his spear, 
And when his shield is buckled on his side, 
His mail across his breast, with arms outstretched 575 
He folds Ascanius close, and, kissing him 
Betwixt his helmet-bars, bespeaks him thus : 
"From me learn courage and true patience, boy; — 
Success from others ! Now shall my right hand 
Defend thee from the fight, and lead thee on 5S0 

To great rewards. Henceforth remember me 



THE y^NEID. 



409 



When, quickly now, thou shalt to manhood come ; 

Lay to thy heart the examples of thy sires ; 

And let ./Eneas e'er and Hector e'er, 

Thy father and thy uncle, fire thy soul ! " 5S5 

No sooner spake than haughtily he strode 
From out the gate, and brandished in his hand 
His mighty spear. At the same time, their ranks 
Fast closing up, Antheus and Mnestheus charge. 
The whole host deluge from the abandoned camp : 590 
The battle-field is hid in clouds of dust ; 
The trembling earth throbs 'neath the tramp of steeds. 
From off the ground that rises in their front 
Turnus beholds them come: the Italians gaze, 
And a cold shudder thrills their very bones. 595 

In terror from the field Juturna flies — 
First of the Latins she to hear and know 
That sound of doom, ^neas rides on wings, 
And pricks his swarthy squadrons to the field. 
So when the sky is rent, the hurricane 6o ° 

Across mid-ocean sweeps upon the shore : 
Long ere it strikes, the wretched peasants' souls 
Alas ! foreknow and shudder at the waste 
And blight 'twill bring on orchard and on crops, — 
The ruin it will scatter far and wide : 6 °5 

The winds fly on before and sound the alarm 
Along the coast. So leads the Trojan chief 
His columns 'gainst the foe. In wedges formed, 
Shoulder to shoulder they their ranks close up. 
Thymbraeus hews the great Osiris down N ; 6l ° 

Archetius by the hand of Mnestheus falls ; 
Ufens by Gyas' hand, and Epulo 



4I0 THE ^ENEID. 



By Achates.' Falls Tolumnius himself, 

Who was the first against the foe to hurl 

His spear. Up goes the battle shout, and now, 6lS 

Rputed in turn, the Rutuli give way 

And show their dusty backs across the field. 

^Eneas neither deigns to slaughter those 

Who fly, nor charge at those who in fair fight 

Engage afoot, or those who missiles hurl 62 ° 

From far. Turnus alone, he peers to find 

Through that dense cloud of dust. Turnus alone 

He challenges to meet him in the lists. 

Heroic, yet in terror at the scene, 
Juturna hurls, head-over 'twixt the reins, 62 5 

Metiscus, charioteer of Turnus' car, 
Who from the draught-tree slips, left far behind. 
She takes his place and gathers in her hands 
The quivering reins, assuming perfectly 
Metiscus' armor, voice, and shape. As through 6 ^° 
The spacious palace of some princely lord 
The dusky swallow skims, and round and round 
Its lofty arches circles, gathering crumbs 
To feed its clamorous young, now twittering 'neath 
The vacant porticos, and now along 6 35 

The dewy fields, so drives Juturna mid 
The squadrons of the foe, and bird-like wheels 
Her swift car everywhere, — now here, now there. 
She her exulting brother lets them see, 
But ne'er to the encounter lets him go, 6 4° 

Forever flitting out of danger's way. 

Yet none the less, ^Eneas, in pursuit, 
Traces the network of her roundabouts, 



THE iENEID. 411 



And tracks his enemy, whom, from the hosts 

That scatter as he comes, he challenges 64 s 

With all his lungs. Yet never sets he eyes 

On his antagonist, or strains the speed 

Of his winged coursers, but Juturna wheels 

Her chariot e'er as oft the other way. 

Alas ! what can he do ? Blinded with rage 6 s° 

He knows not where to turn, so many needs 

Distract his soul. 'Twas then Messapus happed, 

As he sped swiftly by, in his left hand 

To bear two slender spears with iron heads ; 

And one of them with sure-directed aim 6 55 

He threw. ^Eneas shrank behind his shield, 

And rested stooping on his knee. And yet 

The hungry javelin grazed his helmet top, 

And cut the plumes above his head. Then burst 

His rage indeed. Wroth at the treachery, 66 ° 

And conscious now that steed and car do but 

Elude him, he with many an oath by Jove, 

And by the altars of that broken truce, 

Charges at last the centre of the foe. 

Resistless, terrible in victory now, 66 5 

He recks not where the awful slaughter falls, 

But gives unbridled license to his wrath. 

Who now the god, whose song shall tell the tale — 
The horrors of the scene, the mingling dead, 
The fall of chiefs whom, over all that field, 6 7° 

Now Turnus, now in turn Troy's hero strikes ? 
Did'st will, O Jove, that nations, yet to share 
Eternal peace, in such a shock should meet ? 

No moment lost — 'twas this that rallied first 



412 



THE ^NEID. 



The Trojans to the fight — ^Eneas lunged 6 7S 

At Sucro the Rutulian's side, and drove 

His naked sword through ribs and midriff where 

The road to death is shortest. Though on foot, 

Turnus attacks and from the saddle hurls 

Diores and his brother Amycus ; 68 ° 

One, as they come, with his long spear he nails, 

The other with his sword, — then from his car 

Hangs both their heads that trickle with their blood. 

.ZEneas single-handed — one to three — 

Kills Talus, Tanais, and Cethegus bold, 68 5 

And glum Onytes with a Theban name 

But who of Peridia was the son. 

Turnus the brothers, sent from Lycia, kills, — 

Apollo's land, — and the Arcadian youth 

Mencetes, who in vain had shirked the fight ; 6 9° 

His occupation and his modest home 

Had been by Lerna's fishy stream ; unknown 

To him the mansions of the great, his sire 

Scarce tenant of the acres he did till. 

Like fires in opposite directions set 6 95 

Mid the parched woods and crackling laurel groves, 

Or swift descending streams among the hills 

That roar and foam and run into the sea, 

So madly Turnus and ^neas charge 

Amid the battle-lines, each laying waste 700 

His way, while more and more their fury burns ; 

Their bursting hearts have never learned to cower. 

With all their might they cut the swath of death. 

With a huge rock, flung like a hurricane, 
^Eneas strikes and stretches on the ground 705 



THE ^ENEID. 



413 



Murranus, who did boast his lineage, 

His old ancestral names, his blood that came 

Unmixed down through the veins of Latin kings. 

His car-wheels roll him under reins and pole ; 

And, heedless of their master's fate, his steeds 710 

Crush him beneath their fierce swift-trampling hoofs. 

As Hyllus rushes up, his soul ablaze, 

Him Turnus meets, and at his gilded casque 

Hurls spear : through helm it goes, and in his brain 

Is lodged. Nor, Creteus, bravest of the Greeks, 715 

Did thy right hand ward Turnus off from thee ! 

Nor did Cupencus' guardian deities 

Him from the onslaught of JEneas save : 

Poor wretch, he met the sword full front, nor did 

His brazen shield one heart-beat profit him. 720 

Thee also, ^Eolus, Laurentum's plains 

Saw die, stretched out, face up, upon the sand. 

Thou fell'st, whom ne'er the phalanxes of Greece, 

Whom ne'er Achilles, though he overturned 

The realm of Priam, had power to kill. 'Twas here 725 

The goal of life was set for thee : beneath 

Mount Ida's shadow was thy noble birth ; 

Thy lofty mansion in Lyrnessus stood : 

Thy sepulchre is in Laurentum's soil. 

Thus face to face — the Latins to a man, 730 

The Trojans to a man — both hosts did fight, 

Mnestheus and grim Serestus there ; and there 

Messapus, tamer of the horse ; there brave 

Asylas ; there the Tuscan phalanx ; there 

Evander's light Arcadian cavalry. 735 

Each for himself, with all the might and power 



4I4 THE iENEID. 



He hath, doth each man strike. No pause, no rest. 
In one vast slaughter-pen they give and take. 

Then the fair mother of ^Eneas gave 
To him a hint to march upon the town, 740 

Divert his columns towards its walls, and rout 
The Latins by an unexpected blow. 
For while he bends his gaze from point to point 
In search of Turnus mid the battling lines, 
He sees the city lie there undisturbed 745 

And from the perils of the war exempt. 
Quick the thought flashes of a bolder stroke. 
He summons him his chiefs — Serestus grim, 
And Mnestheus, and Sergestus — mounts a knoll, 
And, as the other Trojan troops come up 750 

And rest still under shield and spear enmassed, 
Thus, standing on the earthworks, speaks to them : 
" Wait not upon my bidding : Jupiter 
Is on our side : let no man hesitate 
Because the enterprise comes suddenly ! 755 

To-day this- city that hath fanned the war 
Will I lay waste, nay, all Latinus' realm, 
And level with the dust its smoking roofs 
If it refuse my kingship to accept 
And, fairly beaten, yield ! Am I to wait 7&> 

Forsooth till Turnus please encounter me, — 
Till, vanquished once, he deign to fight once more ? 
Here, soldiers, stands the head and front 
Of this infernal war ! Quick, bring the torch ! 
And claim fulfilment of our pact in fire ! " 765 

Ere he had finished, every heart did blaze. 
They form the wedge. Compactly massed, they storm 



THE ^ENEID. 4I5 



The walls. Swift rise the ladders, and the flames 
Burst sudden up. Some to the gates disperse, 
And kill the sentinels. Some missiles hurl, 770 

And cloud the face of heaven with javelins. 
y£neas, in the very van, uplifts 
His right hand towards the walls, and in a voice 
Of thunder bids Latinus to account. 
He bids the gods bear witness he is forced 775 

A second time to fight; a second time 
The Italians are his foes ; a second time 
Have they their compact broken. Panic-struck, 
The populace but wrangle what to do. 
Some clamor to disarm the town and throw 7S0 

The gates wide open to the Trojan lines ; . 
Even they, drag Latinus to the walls. 
Others belt on their armor and go forth 
The ramparts to defend. So to some cleft 
Of rock the shepherd tracks a swarm of bees : 785 
With bitter smoke he fills it : they, pent up, 
In terror for their stores, disperse amid 
Their waxen cells, and louder buzz the more 
Their fury grows : the pungent flames roll through 
Their hives : their hum sounds smothered in the 
rocks : 790 

The smoke pours out and melts amid the air. 

Already spent, the Latins suffer yet 
A fresh mishap, that with its horror thrills 
The city through and through. Soon as the queen 
Sees from the roof the enemy advance, 795 

The w r alls besieged, the house-tops catching fire, 
And no Rutulian line of battle formed, 



416 



THE iENEID. 



Nor Turnus' troops in sight, in her despair 

She doubts not that the youth is lying dead 

Upon the field. Crazed by the sudden shock, So ° 

She cries that she hath been the guilty cause 

And fount of all their woes. Her reason gone, 

She raves or moans incessantly : she rends, 

Now bent on death, her purple veil, and ties 

The hideous death-knot from a lofty beam. 8 °5 

Soonever as the awful deed is once 

Among the wretched Latin women known, 

Lavinia shrieks, and tears her flaxen hair 

And rosy cheeks — Lavinia first, and then, 

Around her clustering, all the rest. Their cries 8l ° 

Ring high and low throughout the house, whence swift 

The harrowing tidings spread about the town. 

All heart is lost. Latinus, overwhelmed 

At his wife's fate, and at the city's fall, 

His mantle torn, his streaming beard defiled 8l 5 

And foul with dust, doth naught but blame himself 

Because he hath not sooner recognized 

Dardanian .-Eneas' claims and giv'n 

Him cordial welcome as a son-in-law. 

On the remotest confines of the field, 
Still fighting all the while, Turnus pursues 
A straggling few, but with less ardor now, 
And in the victory of his coursers less 
And less delighted \ for the breezes bring 
A cry in which a sense of terror blends, 82 5 

And on his listening ear confused sounds 
And wailings from the city fall. ; * Alas ! 
What horror hath brought fear upon the town ? 



THE iENEID. 4I? 



What wail is this that floats from every roof ? " 

As thus he cries, uncertain what to do, 8 3° 

The reins he tightens and stops short. But still 

His sister — ruling spirit she of car 

And steed and rein, — impersonating still 

The charioteer Metiscus, thwarts him thus : 

" Turnus, let us the Trojans chase where'er 

The door of victory opens easiest ; 

Others there are the city to defend. 

ras e'er the Italians harasses 
And storms : let us the horrors of the war 
Upon the Trojans hurl; nor shalt thou leave 
The field inferior in numbers slain 
Or in the honors of the fight.' 7 To her 
Turnus replies : " O sister, from the first 
I knew who 'twas, when thou did'st artfully 
The compact break and enter in this fight ! S4 $ 

Vain, nymph, thy purpose to deceive me now ! 
But who hath bid thee, from Olympus sent, 
Such labor undertake ? Would'st thou look on 
And see thy wretched brother's cruel death ? 
What more can I ? What turn of fortune now 8 s° 
Can rescue me ? Before my very eyes 
Beseeching me, I saw Murranus die — 
None left, I love so well ! — a mighty man 
Felled by a mighty wound. Poor Ufens fell, 
Spared my disgrace ; his body and his arms s 55 

Are in the Trojans' hands. Can I endure — 
For nothing else is left us — that our homes 
Be rooted from the soil ? Shall not this hand 
N"ail Drances' insults lies ? I turn my back ! 
26 



4 i8 THE ^NEID. 



This land see Turnus fly ! Is dying then 86 ° 

So hard ? Ye shades of death, to me be kind, 
For Heaven hath turned its face away ! To you — 
My soul unstained and guiltless of this charge, — 
Will I descend, worthy of my great sires ! " 

Scarce thus he spake, when lo ! on foaming steed 
Flies Sages through the centre of the foe. 
Though wounded by an arrow in the- face, 
Still forth he rides and calls on Turnus' name, 
Imploring him : " Turnus, on thee alone 
Rests our last hope of safety. Pity thou 8 ?° 

Thy countrymen ! ^Eneas at the gates 
Thunders in arms, and threatens he will raze 
The citadels of Italy and lay 
Them low in ruin. Torches to the roofs 
Already wing their flight. To thee their eyes, 8 75 
To thee their faces do the Latins turn. 
The king himself, Latinus, is in doubt 
Whom he shall call his son-in-law, or what 
Alliance choose. Nay more, the queen — to thee 
The loyalest of friends — by her own hand 88 ° 

Hath died, and fled in terror from the light. 
Messapus and the brave Atinas bear, 
Alone before the gates, the battle-brunt. 
Around them surge, on this side and on that, 
The dense battalions of the foe, and glooms 88 5 

A bristling crop of naked steel, while thou 
Thy chariot wheel'st o'er this abandoned field." 

Dumb-stricken, stunned at such a mass of woes, 
In silent wonderment did Turnus stand. 
A sense of shame seethes deep within his heart, 8 9° 



THE ^ENEID. 



419 



Of frenzy mixed with sorrow, love inflamed 
To fury, courage certain of itself ! 

Soon as the shadows parted, and the light 
Broke in upon his mind again, alarmed 
He turned his glaring eyeballs towards the town, 8 95 
And from his car upon its mighty walls 
Looked back. Lo ! there a whirl of flame, that rolled 
From height to height, and waved against the sky, 
Had seized a tower which he of good stout beams 
Had built 'neath his own eye, and set on wheels, 900 
And with high-arching bridges fitted. " Now, 
Now, sister, fate must have its way ! Forbear 
To hold me back ! Where'er the gods, where'ei 
Stern fortune calls, there let me go. Resolved 
Am I to meet ^Eneas in the lists — 905 

Resolved to bear death's keenest pang : nor shalt 
Thou, sister, see me longer in disgrace ! 
Let me, I pray thee, go while yet I may." 
Thus spake, and from his chariot quick leapt out 
Upon the ground. Through foe, through steel he flies, 
His sorrowing sister leaves behind, and swift 
Breaks through the centre of the battle-line. 
So, toppled by the gale, comes dashing down 
From off a precipice some monster rock 
The heavy rain hath washed or the long lapse 915 
Of years hath loosed : Resistless and abrupt, 
The mighty mass leaps with gigantic bounds 
Till on the level ground it rolls, and drags 
Along its path trees, shepherds, and their flocks. 
So through the parting ranks doth Turnus rush . 920 
The ramparts of the city toward, where'er 



4 2o THE .ENEID. 



The earth is deepest drenched with streams of blood, 

And sibilant the air with javelins. 

He lifts his hand, and in stentorian tones 

Shouts instantly : " Hold now, ye Rutuli ! 925 

Ye Latins ; -/tay your steel ! Whatever hap, 

The field is mine. Better for you that I 

Alone wash out the shame, and by the sword 

Our fate determine." All at this fall back, 

And in the centre of the field make room. 930 

Quick as the name of Turnus strikes his ear, 
^Eneas turns his back on wall and town, 
Brooksjio delay, abandons all his plans, 
And, bounding with delight, makes terrible 
The thunder of his arms. So Athos towers, 935 

So Eryx lifts, or our own Apennine, 
Its snowy head in triumph to the sky, 
And 1 <ars through its resplendent crest of oaks. 

Italians, Rutuli and Trojans then — 
Alike who held the summit of the walls, 940 

Or battered at their foot — concentred all 
Th^ir eager gaze and threw their weapons down. 
Si : dumb with awe, Latinus stood to see 
Two mighty warriors — half the globe betwixt 
The places of their birth — in combat meet 945 

Upon the wager of their swords. Broad stretched 
The open field. Swift striding forward, they, 
Still far apart, let fly their spears, and roused 
With clash of brazen shield the Battle-God. 
The earth did groan, as, blow fast following blow, 950 
They with their swords laid on, — in each combined 
The inspiration of the scene, the fire 



THE ^ENEID. 



421 



Of native valor. So on Sila's vast, 

Or Mount Taburnus' slopes, two angry bulls 

To battle rush, encountering front to front : 955 

The frightened herdsmen stand aside : the whole 

Herd clusters motionless with fear; noi dare 

A heifer low — uncertain which will rule 

The field or be the leader of the drove : 

With sheer brute force each other's flesh they gore ; 960 

With interlocking horns they strain ; blood runs 

In rivers down their shoulders and their necks ; 

And the whole woodland with their bellowing roars. 

So 'tis, when shield to shield in combat meet 

Trojan ^Eneas and the Daunian chief : — 965 

So loud the crash, it fills the very air. 

Jove holds himself the scales in equal poise, 
And weighs the shifting fortunes of the two, 
So he determine unto which of them 
Defeat is doomed, — to which side death inclines. 970 
'Tis just at this that Turnus springs aside, 
Thinking it safe, rises with all his weight 
Upon his high uplifted sword, and strikes. 
The Trojans and the anxious Latins yell, 
Their eyeballs riveted alike. But snaps 975 

The treacherous blade, the blow half-struck, and leaves 
The fiery chief no refuge save in flight. 
Quick as he sees the unfamiliar hilt, 
And his right hand disarmed, swift as the wind 
He flies. The story goes that, when the fight ^ ? ° 
Began, and he in haste did mount his car, 
He left his father's sword behind, and caught 



In his confusion up his charioteer 



4 2 2 THE vENEID. 



Metiscus' blade. Long as the Trojans turned 

Their flying backs, it was enough • but when 9§s 

He came to match the arms god Vulcan wrought, 

Like brittle ice was shattered at a blow 

The steel of mortal make, and glittering lay 

The fragments on the yellow sand. So 'tis 

That over every quarter of the field 990 

All purposeless he flies. Now here, now there, 

He circles tortuously in and out : 

For everywhere the Trojans shut him in ■ 

Upon this side the wide extending marsh, 

On that the lofty walls, encircle him. 995 

Nor lags ^Eneas far behind, although, 
Retarded by his arrow- wound, his knees 
A little falter and are loth to run. 
Hot in pursuit, he presses foot to foot 
Upon his anxious foe. So, in the chase, IOO ° 

The hunter finds a stag penned up within 
The borders of a stream, or caught amid 
The crimson-feathered toils, and on it sets 
His yelling hounds. In terror at the snare, 
And river-bank too steep, a thousand times IO °5 

It back and forward flies. With open mouth, 
The tireless Umbrian dog hangs on its flank, 
Now, now seems seizing it and snaps his jaws 
As if his teeth were in, yet sees the prey 
Still slipping from his empty bite : then loud Ioro 

The shout that rises ; bank and stream respond, 
And back the whole heaven thunders with the roar. 
As Turnus flies, to all the Rutuli 
He shouts, calls each by name, and begs his own 



THE ^ENEID. 



423 



True sword. ^Eneas, on the other hand, IOI 5 

If any dare give aid, threats instant death 
And slaughter, sets them quivering with fear 
Lest he the city sack, and, spite his wound, 
Still presses on. Five times they circle- round, — 
Five times retrace their steps now here, now there. I02 ° 
No boy's play this ; no graceful prize at stake ! 
With Turnus 'tis his heart's blood and his life. 
It happed an olive tree, with its tart leaves, 
Grew wild near by, to Faunus consecrate. 
'Twas wood the mariners did once esteem, I02 s 

For, saved from shipwreck, there they nailed their gifts 
To the Laurentian deity, and hung 
The garments they had vowed to hang. Unknown 
To them its sacred use, the Trojan troops 
Had lopped its trunk to make an open field io 3° 

On which to charge. In this was sticking now 
^Eneas' spear. Hither its impetus 
Had carried it, and firmly driven it home 
Into the hardy stump. The Trojan chief 
Strained at it hard, and stoutly sought to pluck io 3S 
The iron out, that so he might with that 
O'ertake whom in the race he could not reach. 
Insane with terror, Turnus shouted then : 
" I pray thee, Faunus, pity me ! Hold fast 
The spear in thy good soil, for always I io ^° 

In reverence held thy honors which these men 
Of Troy now desecrate by war." So spake, 
Nor begged in vain the succor of the god. 
Not all ^Eneas' might, though straining long, 
And long delayed anent the hardy stump, IQ 45 



424 THE yENEID. 



Can make the stubborn wood unhinge its grip ; 

And while he struggles there intent and fierce, 

The Daunian nymph assuming yet again 

The charioteer Metiscus' shape, runs forth 

And to her brother's hand restores his sword. io 5° 

In dudgeon that her way a saucy nymph 

Should have, Venus takes part, and from the stump 

Plucks out the spear. Exultant both, — their arms, 

Their hearts restored, — one trusting in his blade, 

The other fierce and towering with his spear, io 55 

They face each other panting for the fight. 

Meantime all-powerful Olympus' king 
To Juno, looking from a crimson cloud 
Upon the fight, speaks thus : " When shall there be 
An end, my wife, of this ? What more is left ? Io6 ° 
Thou know'st, ay, thou confessest that thou know'st, 
^Eneas yet is destined to be placed 
A deity in heaven, and lifted up 
Among the stars. What mischief art thou at, 
Or in what hope dost hug those icy clouds ? Io6 5 

Was it quite fitting an immortal god 
Be thus disfigured by a mortal wound ; 
Or that the sword, from Turnus snatched, — for what 
Could have Juturna done without thy help? — 
Should be returned to him, and, vanquished once, io 7° 
His strength restored ? Now once for all forbear ! 
Yield to my will ; let not this sorrow gnaw 
Thy silent heart, nor these unhappy cares 
Meet me so oft from thy sweet mouth ! The last 
Has come. Power hast thou had o'er land and sea io 75 
The Trojans to pursue, — unhallowed war 



THE ^NEID. 



425 



To kindle, — to dishonor home, — and drown 
Love's torch with tears. Forbid I thee dare more ! " 
Thus Jove spake unto her \ and thus replied 
The goddess Juno with a downcast face : loSo 

" But that I knew, great Jove, thou so had'st willed, 
I ne'er had quitted Turnus to his fate, 
Nor willingly withdrawn me from the earth ; 
Nor would'st thou see me, on this lonely cloud, 
Sit suffering the shifts of fortune. Nay, Io8 s 

Belted with fire, I in the battle front 
Had stood, and drawn the Trojans to defeat. 
I do confess I bade Juturna help 
Her wretched brother, and encouraged her 
To dare e'en greater risks to save his life, io 9° 

But not to take-up arms or bend the bow, — 
So swear I by the inexorable Styx, 
That one oath reverenced by the gods of heaven ! 
Yes, now I yield, and loathe and leave the fight : 
I only ask — what nowise fate forbids — io 95 

For Latium and the honor of thy race, 
That when the happy wedding-day brings peace 
To them, and their alliance knits, thou then 
Bid not the Latins, natives of the soil, 
Change their old name so Trojans they become, IIO ° 
Or Trojans e'er be called, or change their tongue, 
Or shift their garb. Let it be Latium still ! 
For ages hence let there be Alban kings, 
And let the Roman issue grow in strength 
Sprung from the virtues of the Italian stock ! iio 5 

As Troy has fall'n, so fall with it its name ! " 
Maker of earth and men, Jove smiled on her: 



42 6 THE ^NEID. 



14 Sister of Jove, and Saturn's other child 

Art thou — yet in thy bosom harborest 

Such storms of passion! Nay, give o'er, and crush IIIQ 

The frenzy that began in naught. I grant 

All thou would'st have. I yield — alike convinced 

And of my choice. The Italians shall retain 

Their native language and their ways, — their name 

Be then as now. The Trojans shall no more JII 5 

Than intermarry and find settlement. 

Ritual and form of worship I will fix, 

And make them Latins all, with but one tongue. 

Thence shall a race arise, — the Italian blood 

Commingling in its veins, — which thou shalt see II2 ° 

In righteousness surpassing gods and men, 

While none so reverently shall worship thee ! " 

At this reply nods Juno her assent : 

Content at heart, she gives her purpose o'er, 

Forsakes the cloud and passes from the sky. II2 5 

This done, the Father meditates again, 
And plans to sever from her brother's sword 
Juturna's aid. 'Tis said there are two pests 
Called Dirae, and that Midnight gave them birth — 
Them and hell-hag Megaera all at once — IJ 3° 

Crowning them all alike with squirming snakes, 
And fitting them with buoyant wings. They wait 
Beside the throne of Jove, and at the door 
Of the dread god : They whet to agony 
The terrors of the sick, oft as the King IJ 35 

Of gods inflicts disease and dreadful death, 
Or guilty cities harasses with war. 
'Twas one of these that from the airy heights 



THE- ^ENEID. 



427 



Jove hastily sent down, and bade her meet 
And give Juturna warning. Forth she flits, XI4 ° 

And glides to earth upon the wind's swift wings, 
As, from the bow-string through the clouds impelled, 
The cruel, treacherous, poisoned arrow flies — 
Some Parthian's or some Cydon's fatal shaft — 
Whizzing and yet so rapid that unseen II4 5 

It cuts the shadows. So this imp of night 
Speeds on her way, and hastens to the earth. 

Soon as she sees the Trojan battle line 
And Turnus' troops, she shrinks her suddenly 
Into the smaller figure of a bird, ir 5° 

Such as by night doth sit on sepulchres 
Or lonely roofs, and in the darkness shriek 
Its late and boding notes. In this disguise, 
Before the eyes of Turnus to and fro 
The Fury screams and flits, and flaps her wings JI 55 
Against his shield. His limbs grow numb and faint, 
His hair on end with horror, and his voice 
Stuck in his throat. But when Juturna hears 
The flapping of a fury's wings afar, 
She tears her flowing tresses in despair; Il6 ° 

In all a sister's grief rends with her nails 
Her cheeks, and beats her bosom with her fists : 
" How can thy sister, Turnus, help thee more ? 
What now is left me in my wretchedness ? 
What art have I to further eke thy life, Il6 s 

Or how can I this monster match ? Now, now 
At last I leave the battle-field ! Add not 
Thy terrors to my woe, ill-omened bird ! . . 
I recognize the flapping of thy wings — 



42 S THE ^NEID. 



The augury of death ; nor are from me "7° 

The stern behests of mighty Jove disguised. 

Does he, who robbed me of my honor make 

This recompense ? Why gave he unto me 

Eternal life ? Why take away the boon 

Of certain death ? I would that once for all IJ 75 

I might these sorrows at this moment end, 

And through the valley of the shadow r walk 

At my poor brother's side ! Immortal I ! 

Without thee, brother, what delight for me 

In any blessing of my own ? Would earth IlSo 

Might yawn so wide, though I a goddess am, 

'Twould drag me down into the deepest shades ! " 

This said, her green veil round her head she wrapped 

With many a groan, and sank into the sea. 

Forcing the fight, ^Eneas brandishes Il8 5 

His mighty tree-trunk spear, and savagely 
He shouts : " Art shirking still ? Doth Turnus flinch ? 
No trial this of speed ! — but face to face 
We fight with deadly steel. Be on thy guard 
At every point, and summon to thine aid JI 9° 

Whate'er thou canst of courage or of skill, — 
Whether thou hop'st amidst the stars of heaven 
To wing thy flight, or in the grave to sink.*' 

Turnus but bowed his head as back he cried : 
" Thou beast, thy taunts alarm me not. The gods IX 9S 
I fear and Jove, who hath become my foe." 
He spake no more, but as he looked about 
He saw a huge and moss-grown rock, that happed 
To lie upon the plain, a monument 
Set there to mark the boundaries of the field. I2 °° 



THE .ENEID. 



429 



Scarce twelve picked men, such as the earth bears now, 

Beneath its weight could stagger. In his hand 

The hero caught it nervously ; he ran 

To give it impulse ; rising on his toes, 

He flung it at his foe, scarce conscious he I2 °5 

Whether he ran or walked, or that he raised 

Or hurled that monstrous stone. His knees grew weak ; 

His blood so cold, it thickened in his veins. 

The warrior's missile, flying through the air, 

Nor cleared the space nor struck a blow. So 'tis I2I ° 

Ofttimes in sleep, when night's soft slumbers fold 

The eyes, and we in vain strive eagerly 

To reach some goal, yet ever fail and faint 

E'en as we struggle most; nor tongue will speak, 

Nor most familiar muscles move, nor word I2I 5 

Nor utterance follow. So, whatever way 

He bravely dares, the infernal goddess blocks 

Success. A thousand thoughts are in his heart. 

His wistful eyes are on his countrymen 

And toward the town. In fear he hesitates ; I22 ° 

He trembles at his adversary's spear; 

Nor sees he either how to fly, or how 

To strike his enemy; nowhere in sight 

His car, his sister, or his charioteer. 

But while he vacillates, ^Eneas lifts * I22 5 

His deadly shaft : he hurls it from afar 
With steady aim and all his might. Ne'er stone 
Shot from the catapult so roared its way, 
Or thunder broke so loud. Speeds on the spear, 
Black as the hurricane, and grinning death I2 3° 

Astride its point. The fastenings of the mail, 



43 o THE iENEID. 



The buckler's edge, spite seven thick plates of brass, 
It rips apart, and pierces with a hiss 
Straight through the thigh. Struck down upon the earth 
Great Turnus falls upon his bended knee. I2 35 

The Rutuli spring forward with a groan ; 
The circling hills repeat the cry, and far 
Away the woods re-echo it. His eyes, 
His pleading hands uplifting, Turnus speaks, 
A suppliant and low : "I merit naught; I2 4° 

Nor mercy ask. Use, as thou wilt, thy lot ! 
Yet if in aught a wretched father's grief — 
Thou such a father in Anchises had'st — 
Can touch thy heart, have pity then. I beg, 
On Daunus now in his old age ; and though ,2 4S 

Thou robb'st my body of the spark of life, 
Restore it to my kin ! The victory thine, 
The Italians see me now lift up my hands 
A vanquished man. Lavinia is thy wife. 
Thou canst not glut thy vengeance on me more ! " I2 s° 

^Eneas paused. Hot with the fight, yet back 
He held his hand, and gazed unsteadily. 
Each word now more and more began to bend 
His yielding purpose, when young Pallas' belt 
Alas ! high on the shoulder of his foe, I2 55 

Its well-remembered bosses glistening there, 
He saw. Turnus had slain the boy, who then 
Vanquished and bleeding lay, and now he wore 
Across his breast the trophy then he won. 
Nor sooner drank ^Eneas' eyes that sight — I26 ° 

The spoils that called to mind so keen a grief — 
Than, terrible his wrath, on fire with rage, 



THE ^NEID. 43 T 



He cried : " Clad in the trophies thou did'st strip 

From off the body of my friend, shalt thou 

Escape me ? Pallas 'tis, that with this stab — 126 5 

'Tis Pallas sacrifices thee, and wreaks 

His vengeance thus in thy accursed blood ! " 

While yet he spake, he passionately plunged 

His dagger through his foeman's heart. Death's chill 

Unnerved the limbs, but the undying soul I2 7° 

Sighed its contempt, and flitted to the shades. 



THE END. 



% 



<4>> 



7/ 



i*f 



\ 



